Clash

He blew a breath through his mouth. “You trust me?”

My throat tightened that he had to ask. “Yeah, Jude. I trust you.”

“You love me?”

“Always,” I answered, stroking his cheeks.

“Then screw Adriana Vix,” he said.

I arched a brow.

“Someone else who isn’t mad for his girl can screw her,” he clarified, smirking at me. “Don’t let anyone come between us, Luce. This thing we’ve got going on is going to be challenging enough without the likes of an Adriana Vix complicating it.”

“I know,” I said, looking away. “It feels like sometimes I’m just waiting for the bottom to fall out beneath us. You know?” I felt guilty for admitting it, but I was a realist, and couples like Jude and me had the odds more stacked not in our favor than in it.

“I know, baby,” he said. “I know. When it does though, we’ll just grab onto a rope and wait it out.”

I nodded, wondering if this was the kind of life Jude and I could expect from here on. Searing moments of passion, interrupted by miscommunications, followed by soul bearing make ups. It wouldn’t be a bad way to spend a life.

“Come on then,” he said, running his hands down to mine. “Come to bed with me.” Leading me over to the blanketless bed, he kicked off his shoes, scooped me into his arms, and crashed down on the mattress.

Rolling me onto my side, he pressed himself against my back, cocooning me between his arms and legs. “Arguing with you is exhausting,” he said outside my ear, mid yawn. “Let’s never do it again.”

“Okay,” I lied. It was a nice idea, but one Jude and I would never realize if we lasted. People like Jude and me didn’t make it through life without a screaming match every now and then; that was the reality. But reality was a lot easier to face with Jude wrapped around me the way he was now.

We laid like that for a while, silent and still, enjoying the warmth of one another. A breeze rushed through the window, caressing my face. I grinned.

“I hope you’ve got more underwear hidden somewhere,” I said, poking my elbow into his ribs, replaying Jude tossing his drawers out the window.

“That would be a negative,” he said in a sleepy voice. “I was out of clean underwear this morning.”

“Wait,” I said, suddenly feeling very awake. “Does that mean…?”

“Yep,” he answered, nuzzling deeper into my neck, already half asleep. I’d give him a free pass tonight. He’d won a big game, made me feel things a girl shouldn’t spread over the counter of a boy’s bathroom, held his own in an argument with me, and managed to say the exact right thing to calm me down. He had a right to be exhausted.

Smiling, I tucked deeper into him. “That could have made things far more interesting in the bathroom.”

I felt his smile curve against my neck before I followed him to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

His body wasn’t wrapped around me‌—‌like he was sheltering me from the world‌—‌any longer, but he was close. Whatever bond we’d built in the tumultuous months we’d shared, we’d passed over into a new level of consciousness when it came to each other.

“I can feel you staring at me,” I said, keeping my eyes closed and curling deeper into Jude’s pillow. It smelt like him‌—‌maybe that’s why my dreams were so sweet.

His hand curled over mine, lifting it to his mouth. “Sorry, Luce,” he said, kissing my knuckles. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” Rotating my hand, he pressed another kiss into the fleshy underside.

“How’s a girl supposed to sleep when you’re doing that?” I smiled, opening my eyes.

His eyes were trained on me, metallic in the morning light. One corner of his mouth curled up.

“She’s not,” he said, leaping onto the bed, strategically landing over me.

“Good,” I said, wishing I could have one minute to brush my teeth and run a brush through my hair, but with Jude, these moments of carelessness came rarely, so I wasn’t about to chance excusing myself while all his engines were firing. “Sleep’s overrated.”

His hand slid up my side, swerving in and out over my ribcage, before settling over the top of my chest. “Yes, it is,” he whispered, kissing the area below my ear.

This was one hell of a wake up call.

“Did you lock the door?” I teased, situating myself below him so the important parts were aligned. No one in their right mind would let themselves into Jude Ryder’s bedroom when the door was closed. Not if they didn’t want to wear a fist-size dent in their forehead.

Challenging my prior assumption, Jude’s door exploded open the next second, bouncing off the wall.

“Ehh,” Holly said, making a face and holding her hands over her eyes. “You guys are like a pair of damn rabbits.”

So everyone but Holly knew better than to throw themselves into Jude’s room uninvited.

“Didn’t you two get enough of each other last night?” She was talking quietly, at least for Holly, and judging from the way she was screwing her fingers into her temples, she’d had a wild night.

“Nope,” Jude answered, hoisting himself off of me.

“Good morning, Holly,” I grumbled, sitting up in bed. “Great to see ya.”

“Don’t you whine like a baby to me. You had him to yourself all last night and now I need to borrow him for a few hours or else I’m going to miss my flight.”