Malia’s hand brushed Zephyr’s as she reached for the bowl of popcorn. Living with Malia had become easy. Too easy.

Things were sort of getting to a normal place. Well, at least she seemed to be fine. He on the other hand was not. He'd been spending a lot more time in the shower when she wasn't in the apartment.

With every move she made, a hint of her shampoo wafted into his nostrils. And there he was, sporting a hard-on. Like now. Or worse, she'd give him one of those smiles that lit up the whole room and he'd lose his train of thought.

Fuck, she was beautiful. But he'd given her his word. Never mind what he did in the shower.

He adjusted himself discreetly and slid his gaze over to her. She wasn't wearing anything sexy or anything that screamed that she might be interested. But he had it bad. There was something so sexy about her. Something he couldn't ignore. Something he couldn't put his finger on, but everything about her screamed to him; Touch me. Hold me. Kiss me.

Of course, he wasn't an idiot. He wasn't going to do that again.

She needed him, and he wasn't going to take advantage. And both times he'd kissed her, it was like a light bulb had gone off. Also, both their futures were hanging in the balance. He and Hokuto had come to an uneasy truce.

So why rock the boat? Because he was desperate for one more taste and he'd had a perpetual case of blue balls since she moved in.

"You're staring at me."

A smile played on his lips and he said, "Well, you're not hard on the eyes."

She snorted. “Yeah. Because the scruffy blond afro puff is so sexy.”

It was, actually. But he'd already nudged that inappropriate thought back.

She changed the subject before he could say anything too telling. “I heard you talking to one of your brothers earlier. Sounds like your family wants to come and visit?”

“Yeah, but I’m holding them off.”

“Why?”

“You don’t know the Donovan clan. We’re like a hoard of locusts.”

“Right, I remember you said you had a bunch of siblings. It must be fun though. Are you all adopted?”

Not really what he wanted to talk about, but hell, at this point he'd tell her anything if it meant she'd keep smiling at him like that. You are a glutton for punishment. You can't have this one. And all those dirty things you keep thinking of doing with her are going to get you booted from the job if you keep that shit up.

He shook his head to clear it. "Mom and Dad had kids of their own when they got married. So Delilah is Mom's; Derek and Dylan are Dad's. They had a Brady Bunch situation going on. They were at dinner one night and found a kid who'd been beaten up real bad. That was Nate. Mom's a doctor so she patched him up, only to find he had nowhere to go. Delilah insisted they keep him. And my sister is persuasive.”

“They took in a random?”

“You don't know my sister. Fast forward a bit, and he vanishes one day and we don't see him again.”

“What?”

“Fast forward again, this time a decade, and Delilah walks into a job and there he is. They pretty much couldn't keep their hands off each other at that point.”

She clutched a hand to her heart. “That's so romantic.”

“They're pretty great together. He's always had a thing for her. Maybe because she saved him.”

“Just like you saved me,” she whispered.

And what do you know, his dick was ready to party.

"To hear Delilah tell it, it's like an epic love story." He shrugged. "Maybe it is. I don't know. I guess I've never felt that way about someone before, that I would move heaven and earth to get to them." Not even Alice.

Malia shook her head. "Me either.”

“So you weren’t in love with Millennial Frat Boy?”

“That's a negative.”

“Interesting. So yeah, it’s funny, there was all this subtext with them through my childhood, but I barely remember him from when I was a kid. I had only been with the family for six months or so when he left. But he’s cool. I’m glad Delilah is deliriously happy. She’s pregnant too. And actually, so is my sister, Jezzie."

She laughed. "So your parents are getting two grandchildren at once?"

"You should see my mom. She's over the moon. Between Delilah and Jezzie, she's got the grandma thing all ready to go. Completely going overboard, buying way too many toys."

Malia smiled softly. "But that's the grandma's prerogative."

"I guess so."

"Okay, so you got your sister, Delilah, and she married Nate, and then the next one is Mia? She was on that dating show?"

He nodded. "Yeah, so she married Ryan, the dating personality guy. And she's producing shows now, so that's a huge thing. Super proud of her."

"Okay, so then you have two older brothers?"

"Yeah, Derek is married to Kisima Jennings, the racecar driver. And then Dylan is married to Serafina."

“And one of your sisters is married to a musician,” she asked.

Zephyr nodded. "Yep, and Jezzie is married to Logan Cross."

She stared at him. "All this time, you knew Logan Cross?"

He laughed. "Yeah. I mean he's cool and all."

Malia sputtered. "You should always lead with the fact that your brother-in-law is a rock star. It will probably earn you more points with the ladies."

He laughed. "I don't think I need it."

“You most certainly don't.” Suddenly, the humor went out of her voice and her gaze flickered down. "I mean, obviously you know what you look like. And there must be some uncomplicated women running around?"

Zephyr swallowed. This was the closest they'd come to discussing what happened at the hotel. He knew he should deflect. Say something easy and casual. Instead, what came out was, “Maybe I just happen to like complicated.”

A flush crept up her neck, and he knew what she was thinking about. Because he lived in that memory. Of the way her nipples pebbled under his fingers. Of how wet she'd been.

She cleared her throat. “Right, but it’s not like you have time for dating anyway. You’re a busy guy.”

"Yeah, I guess I'm just focusing on the job. Probably best that way." And not focusing on how short and tight her shorts were, or how the tank hugged her tits. Or every time her tongue traced over her lips. He wasn't going to tell her about all the dirty things he thought about doing with her. He sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that every time he took a shower, he pictured her on her knees with her mouth on his dick, or her with her hands against the wall as he took her from behind and cupped her breasts. Nope, not going to happen. It was probably best to shut down that line of thinking before his dick made a nuisance of itself.

Malia cleared her throat. "Look, I've been meaning to say this. I don't want to cramp your style."

"What?"

"I know that having me here is going to be a pain in the ass. I mean, I'm in your space; I'm in your stuff. You won't let me take the couch. I'm a roommate in a one-bedroom apartment. I know the quarters are tight. I'm just saying if you want to bring someone home, all you have to do is say so and I will clear out."

He frowned. All he could think about were the myriad ways he wanted to have sex with her, and she was trying to clear out so he could bring someone else home? What the fuck? He gritted his teeth. "Fine. I mean, same goes for you too. You're staying here now, so you can bring someone home."

Her gaze flickered to his. "Um, this is technically not my place. It's your place. And I have survival things to be thinking about instead. I'm not thinking about guys right now.”

Just the idea of some other guy with his hands on her made him crazy. The buzz of anger flooded his veins and he couldn't force himself to relax. "I'm serious though. You're staying here now. Right? You're not in a hurry to leave?"

She frowned at him. "Well, it's not like I can stay here forever. But I am going to give the money I've saved to my sister so she can register for the prep-school program. It terrifies me that I’ll have nothing, and I’ll need to start saving from scratch. But if I know she’s somewhere good, I don’t have to send my aunt money, and I can crash here for a while, I’ll probably have money saved for a deposit in no time. I’ll work extra shifts, whatever I need to do. Then I can be out of your hair."

"Dammit, that's not what I was saying. What I meant was that this is your place to stay for as long as you want or need it. There’s no rush for you to get out. So you can do whatever you want or whoever you need here."

She frowned, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. Fuck. He was being a dick. But she was talking about bringing people to their place. And not in a sexy, swinger way.

Not to mention the way she always defaulted to survival mode. It made him uneasy. That might be why he'd added a deadbolt to the front door. Yeah, because he understood her need for safety. And also because if she unlocked it, he'd know. She's not yours. You can't keep her. Yeah well, fuck that noise. He wanted to keep her.

"Look, we agree. If either of us wants to bring someone home, it’s cool."

She studied him for a moment then nodded. "Glad we got this out of the way and can be adults."

"Yeah. Adults." As much as he hated it, she did have a point. He should date. Because the sooner he thought about someone else, the quicker he'd forget about her.

As if that would be easy. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I will ask someone out."

She pursed her lips. "You should."

"Okay then, I will." When he lifted his gaze back to her, she turned her attention resolutely back to the television. It wasn't like he could have her. He might as well distract himself.

* * *

Malia flopped in the bed. She got the distinct impression when she went to bed that they were having a fight.

She didn't want him going out with someone else. And that was by and large the problem. She tried not to think of him as hers. Tried not to think of him as someone she could keep. As someone she could rely on. And that was a problem. Because he wasn't hers. She couldn't rely on him. He was being kind and giving her place to stay, but that could change at any moment. Nothing was written in stone. And she had to remember that. Besides, thinking he was hers would only get her hurt.

There was a ticking clock on her stand. She couldn't watch him parade girls along. That would hurt.

She flopped over on the bed again. She'd already washed the sheets several times, so the pillow no longer smelled like him. And she knew it was way too creeper of her to take one of his T-shirts. What the hell was wrong with her?

She kicked off the sheets. She was too hot. Too uncomfortable. Imagine how he feels out there?

It wasn't fair. She'd had a couple weeks of blissful sleep. She felt safe, and relaxed, and completely willing and able to sleep just about anywhere.

Finally, she tossed the sheets off and headed out to the living room, only to find him tossing and turning as well. He sat up immediately. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

She frowned. He really did think she was going to leave again. "Nothing is wrong. I just—I was thinking that maybe you should sleep in your bed."

He shook his head stubbornly and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "No. I already told you."

Malia knew he was talking, but she was too distracted by the display of bare chest. It reminded her too much of the day she walked in on him coming out of the shower. Abs. Taut, ripped, corded muscles. And something below the blanket. She clamped her thighs together. "Look, I suggest that maybe you sleep in your bed. Next to me. It's a king-size bed for the love of God. I don’t take up much room. And we can use the pillows as barriers. And it'll be more comfortable for you." And for her. She’d feel safer and less guilty.

He frowned. “Are you having nightmares again?"

She shook her head. “No. But I just—it's making me feel guilty. I feel bad. I see how tired you are when you get home, usually crashing out. You can't even do that because I'm hanging out on the couch and that's your bed. You should be able to sleep in your bed. If you're not going to let me sleep on the couch—"

He shook his head. "No. Nonstarter."

"—then at least sleep in your own bed. We already talked about this. That morning, it was just one of those things. Like the kiss … No big deal. We can just go back to pretending everything is fine."

He frowned. "I'm not sure that's the best—”

"We can keep arguing about this, or you can actually get a good night's sleep. If you haven’t noticed the bags in your eyes that doesn’t mean no one else has. Come on. It's your bed, and it's huge. Way too big for me, okay? I promise I will not jump your bones."

His gaze locked on hers. "Can you trust that I'm not going to jump on you?"

Oh man, she wished he would. No. No, you do not. "Yeah, I believe that. Because that program's important to you. Just as it's important to me. This is already a risk with me staying here, with you. We don’t want to jeopardize that, right?"

He swallowed but nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"Then, Mr. Donovan, how about you come to bed?"

Right up until that moment, she'd thought it was a fantastic idea. A perfect idea. They should stop feeling guilty. The blanket slipped as he stretched, showing off the full expanse of his thick leg muscles, the rigid lines of his abs, the lean muscle of his torso and chest, and the corded muscles in his arms. Oh God. What the hell did she just agreed to?