What I can’t shake is this push to seek Stella out just to be near her. Even though the rain hasn’t let up since we got here, I’d wanted to go back to the city so we could be alone. But it soon became clear that wasn’t happing. Fucking motorcycle. I should have called a car service. Then there was Corinne and Hank, who asked us to stay over, concerned for their girl’s safety. What could I say to that? They obviously mean a lot to Stella. I’d be a total ass to say no.

Taking the long hallway to the den, in the opposite direction that Stella went tonight, physically hurt. My balls and lower abs actually hurt. I’m off-balance and this damn bed is growing less and less comfortable.

Cursing, I flop onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. The only sound reaching my ears is the patter of rain and my own heart beating. Hell, she’s thinking about moving out here? When Stella had mentioned moving away from Manhattan, it cut the legs out from under me. I’ve deliberately pushed aside the fact that she’s a temporary neighbor who will be gone as soon as Killian and Libby return.

I don’t even know why I’m shitting over this; I’m hardly in New York for more than a few months at a time. I move around a lot.

So where does that leave me and Stella? Why hadn’t I thought about this before?

You were too busy having fun and wanting her.

“What the hell am I doing?”

My irritated whisper drifts through the darkness, highlighting the fact that I’m alone and talking to myself when I could be in Stella’s bed, talking to her, touching her. Except I’m in Hank’s house. Hank, who will absolutely cut off my balls if I lay a hand on Stella here. Which I’m not going to do. No, I’m going to be a good boy and keep my dick in my pants, even if it kills me.

My hand is clammy when I run it over my face. I don’t recognize myself anymore. The guy I used to be would have been in Stella’s pants a week ago. Who am I kidding? Jax would have followed Stella right out of that store and seduced her on the spot. Why do I keep thinking about old me?

The fact that I even think of my old self as Jax and my current self as John is messed up. Somewhere along the way, I separated myself. I pushed Jax into the shadows with this mad idea that I could put all the blame on him and everything would be fine.

Yes, I was out of control and arrogant when I was Jax the rock star. Yes, I’d hit rock bottom when I was Jax. But there isn’t Jax and John. There’s just me. Stella is right, I’m both. She thinks both sides of me are worthy. Fact is I felt more like myself—whoever the fuck that may be—today than I have in too long a time. Because I’d been with Stella. She makes me feel alive.

Then what the hell are you doing alone in here, mate?

You promised to take things slow, remember?

Slow is one thing. You promised you’d give her proper attention. Bad form, Blackwood.

You absolutely can’t do anything tonight, so shut it.

“And now I’m arguing with myself.” With a snort, I run my hands through my hair. I’m so irritably tense that the second the den door creaks open, my heart skips a beat. Rising on my elbows, I peer into the shadows.

“Stells?” It had better be her. I really don’t want to consider anyone else creeping in here or why they would.

A slim form slips out of the gloom. Stella’s bright curls are the color of rust in the darkness as she comes up to the side of my bed. “Hey,” she whispers.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper back. “Do you want Hank to neuter me?”

Her snort is a ghost of sound. “He’s not going to neuter you.”

“Oh, yes he is. He distinctly said he’d rip my balls off and feed them to me if I laid an untoward hand on you.”

“Untoward?” She laughs at me. “Why, Mr. Darcy, how gallant of you to protect my honor.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You know what I mean.”

Stella inches closer, and the floor creaks loudly. I swear, I jump out of my skin. I glace at the door. Thank God she at least had the sense to shut it.

In the gloom, her smile is a glint of white teeth. “Hank said no such thing. I saw him go straight to his room before you closed the door to the den for the night.”

“Oh, he said it all right,” I mutter. “He said it with that death glare he’s been giving me. Trust me, his message was received loud and clear, little miss detective.”

“Even if he did, that’s ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. Do you have any idea how archaic it is to put us in separate rooms?”

“Yes. And I agree one hundred percent about you being a woman grown, fully capable of making her own decisions. But I’m a guest in his house, so out you go, love.” I make a shooing motion toward the door.

Her snort says I’m being ridiculous. Of course, it isn’t her ass in danger of being annihilated by an angry ex-combat pilot. I know this because Hank told me stories, being sure to include how he knows guys who can make people disappear. I’m only half certain he was joking.

“He’s not even my father, for crying out loud.”

“Tell that to Hank.” I hold up a quick hand. “In the morning.”

Her thighs press against the mattress, gleaming white and bare, and, oh fuck me, I can smell the perfume of her skin. She’s so close, all I have to do is reach out and slip my hand between her legs.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Have a heart, Stells. I’m trying to be good.”

“I know. It’s really annoying.”

I husk out a quiet laugh. “Go back to bed, you brat.”

She grins, leaning in a little, her face a pale moon hovering above me. “I can’t sleep.”

I have something to make you sleep better. No, wait, that’s a horrible quip; women don’t want to be put to sleep while you’re fucking them, you moron.

I run a hand over my eyes and try to clear my thoughts. “Why can’t you sleep? You feeling okay?”

“No. I’m lonely. Can I sleep next to you?”

Next to me, on top of me, under me. As long as you’re with me.

Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “Stella, we’re not having sex.”

“Did I offer?”

I stare up at her because we both know if she gets into this bed, we aren’t keeping our hands off each other. She stares back for a few beats but then relents with a waggle of her brows that makes me laugh. I don’t want her to leave. She’ll take all the joy out of the room.

“Can I get in, or what?” She’s all tumbled curls, big pleading eyes, and pouty lips. How am I supposed to resist? I’m not sure why I’m even trying. I can worry about dying tomorrow.

Grumbling, I scoot over and lift the covers. Stella scrambles in. Instantly, my bed is a better place, filled with her soft, warm, wiggling body. And I do mean wiggling. She reminds me of a puppy as she burrows under the covers and claims a spot as close to me as she can get. I laugh softly and slide an arm under her neck, bringing her head onto my shoulder.

Stella rests her hand on my chest and sighs. “That’s better.”

Understatement. Smiling, I press my lips to the top of her head. “Comfortable?”

“Yes.” She wiggles again, and the pullout couch screeches in protest.

“Shhh!” I swear, I’m freaking sweating. “Quiet.”

Stella rolls her eyes. “My God, you’re acting like an agitated cat.”