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I’ll try living just for me.
Five minutes. That’s all it took for a stranger to crawl under my skin.
I narrow my eyes at her, tilting my head. It’s far too early to deal with people, especially people who look like they skip for fun.
my sisters would love her. She has that Hastings determination.
“I’ve outlined everything down to the minute.” Not just that, but the thing is color-coded and broken
He even included the daily sunrise and sunset times down to the minute, which sort of feels cute and tender and sweet all at the same time.
The last thing I expected to keep after my ballet career ended was a degradation kink.
Unfortunately for me, I think my crush just became terminal. No.
I tell myself it’s adrenaline from the animal encounter. But it’s not. It’s the fact that Alec Hastings just faced down a thousand-pound predator with me tucked against him like I was something worth protecting.
What the fuck am I acting like a teenage boy for? I’m a grown man. This is normal behavior. I don’t need to sit here and debate the moral weight of sending a photo to a beautiful woman.
I haul her toward me like my arms were built for this one purpose.
It’s irrational. So fucking unlike me. I don’t panic. I don’t fear. I don’t feel this much.
“I’ll grow on you.” I wink.
“Like you’re the kind of person who could sit alone in his truck for weeks and watch the rain hit the window.”
His laugh, still echoing. The soft way his face shifts when he lets himself smile. He looks younger, lighter, almost breakable. I feel it everywhere. Like the urge to move closer. To touch. To lean in. To do something.
Classical music has always made sense to me. Patterns, form, precision. A well-cut route on a mountain. No wasted steps. No chaos. Just discipline until it looks like freedom. And she is the closest thing I’ve ever seen to freedom.
I’m not a dog.”
“But you are such a good boy.”
If she asked me to bark right n...
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“Alec, I can’t take these.”
“I even got you the cute ones.”
“Well, holy hell,” Margaret crows from the doorway, wrapped in a pink robe, tea steaming in her hand. “Didn’t know I’d stumble upon foreplay before breakfast.”
“Don’t you ‘Gran’ me. I may be old, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I can see what Alec was just doing.” She sips her tea with a wicked smirk. “Though next time, maybe clear the garage floor first. Concrete’s murder on the knees.” “Gran!” Clementine squeals, her face flaming red. “Back to it, darlings. Alec, grab a blueberry muffin when you’re done tasting my granddaughter’s muffin.”
“Grocery lists always end with chocolate. Packing lists always start with underwear. And my to-do lists always include something I already did, just so I can check it off.”
“That’s cheating.”
“That’s h...
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“You think pleasure can be itemized?”
“I think you’d be surprised.”
Clementine doesn’t look back to see if I’ll follow. She knows I will.
“Having a watch vibrate every hour gives people the impression that you’re always waiting for the next thing.”
In one clean motion, I strip off my watch and place it in my pocket. My wrist feels naked, but I swallow away the discomfort. “There.”
“No. I’m wise beyond my years.”
“Sure you are.”
“So, tell me the rea...
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“Nope. I climb ’cause I’ve always had too much noise in my head,”
“Of course, half the reason I loved the climbing gym was because it was hard to find quiet in a house with five siblings.”
“My sisters, probably. Francesca’s the youngest. Her brain is wired like mine, never stops running toward danger. And Brooklyn basically raised half of us.”
“For me, quiet meant surviving.”
“With Finn, it became more than that.”
“With you…it feels differ...
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“I don’t do things I don’t want to do.”
“Hungry,”
“For food?”
“For ...
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“Do you always stare this much at dinner, or am I special?”
“If I say you’re special, will you stop talking and keep eating?”
“You’re special, Clementine.”
“Thank you. For this. For sharing all of it with me. I’m enjoying this, Alec.”
Finn gave me comfort when I needed it most. The kind that made the world less jagged. But Clementine, she gives me hunger again. And the terrifying thing is, it feels like permission.
“Me too,”
