Riley Tennyson, claiming me in my fucking bed.

“CJ?”

“Mm?”

“Tell me a secret. I’m staying in your room, aren’t I?” she asks. Her warm breath on my neck.

I smile, lips curling against her forehead. “What do you think, darlin’?”

She sighs. Her fingers dance across my chest. “I think I am. All of your stuff is in here. And that other bed is too small for you. Your feet hang off the edge.”

“It’s my old bed from when I was a kid. I just keep it around for when Jake comes to visit.”

“Isn't he too big for it too? In that picture, you guys seemed the same height.”

“Oh yeah. He hangs off just as bad as me. I just think it's funny as shit when he bitches about it.”

He's my baby brother. I'm allowed to torment him a little. It’s all out of love.

“Well, I could’ve fit in it. I wouldn’t hang off the edge,” Riley informs me, giving up information I already know.

“You fit better in this one,” I tell her.

I feel her head move.

“We fit better in this one,” she corrects me.

“Not gonna argue with that.” I curl my hand around the back of her head and press a kiss to her forehead, breathing deep. My mind heavy.

“What?” Riley asks, reading me. She leans back and looks up into my eyes, jumping between the two of them. “CJ . . .”

“I never waited for anything like I waited for you,” I admit, watching her lips slowly part. “And I would’ve kept waiting, babe. Given you what you needed. I would’ve been the best fucking friend you ever had if it meant getting my shot with you, `cause you’re worth it, Riley. You’re worth so fucking much, including falling out of small as shit beds for, which, I’m gonna be honest, that happened more than once.”

The sweetest fucking smile spreads across her mouth. Slowly. It’s fucking beautiful to watch. Then she drops her head and burrows closer. “Thank you,” she whispers.

I wrap my arms tighter around her. “You don't need to thank me, darlin'. I'm just letting you know how it is.”

“And I'm just letting you know,” her arm curls around my body and squeezes me. “Thank you.”

I kiss the top of her head. “I’ll go get you that soup now.”

“No thanks.”

“You no longer super hungry?”

“I am, but I’d rather you not move.”

I smirk, liking Riley’s thoughts on keeping me close, but knowing she really wants that soup I brought her motivates me to say my next words. “I got the same thing you ordered. Best fucking soup I ever ate.”

Riley clears her throat and shifts a little against me. “Yeah. They do a real good job with it,” she says. Her voice nonchalant.

I know better.

“Loaded with crab meat,” I tell her. “They don’t skimp. That’s for damn sure . . .”

“Mmhmmm.” Her fingertips drum restlessly on my left pec.

I go in for the kill.

“I think they threw in a couple of legs for you. They were heavy too. It’d be a shame if someone didn’t—”

“I’m good with you moving now,” she interrupts me, pushing a little against my chest.

Laughing, I lean back, looking into her smiling face. I give her a wink. “Get my lady set up then.”

Riley eats her soup in bed, her legs thrown over mine, her side against my chest, ass practically in my lap. She finishes up and relaxes against me again, both of us lying under the sheets. Eyes closed, I feel her touch move over my ribs, down my abs and lower.

Lower . . .

Wrapping around me.

“This is the beginning of us,” she whispers, repeating my words when I settle over her again, condom on. Mouth finding hers in the dark, I push inside and feel her body open.

Hands gripping. Pulling closer. Urging. “Cannon.” Her voice is like a plea in my ear.

The beginning of us.

The start. And already, I never want to find our end.

Five Days Later

SPRAWLED ACROSS CJ’S body, eyes closed, head on his bare chest, leg slung over his hip and arm curling around his waist, I think about how happy I am right now, laying naked except for a pair of panties on the couch in the middle of the afternoon while CJ watches baseball highlights.

Do I typically lay around mostly naked? No.

Do I enjoy listening to baseball highlights? It’s okay. I don’t hate it.

Aside from the two days this week when I’ve had class, have CJ and I left the house at all? Nope.

Coming to my conclusion and deciding it’s too important to keep to myself, I share it.

“I don’t think I have ever been this happy.”

CJ's arm around my back gives me a squeeze, then his warm breath is in my hair. “Me either, baby,” he murmurs in that deep, smooth as honey voice that feels like a touch moving over my body. And he means that. I know he does.

Scratch that. Now, hearing his response, I am officially at my happiest.

My reunion with CJ couldn’t have come at a better time. Due to my schedule change this week, I’ve been off three days out of the five, meaning we’ve had tons of time to spend together. And all of that time, whether we’re kissing and touching or doing nothing but this, has been amazing.

We’ve talked. We’ve laughed and played. We’ve gone to bed together and woken up together.

And we’ve had sex all over this house.

I’m pretty sure the only place we haven’t done it yet is on top of the TV. It’s a flat screen so, otherwise, I think it would’ve been attempted.

Never have I smiled this much with a guy. Never have I laughed and joked around the way I do with CJ. I know he said we could never be friends again, but I still kind of feel like we are. Just more. We’re lovers who became friends who became . . . everything.

I wasn't lying. I have never been this happy.

There’s just one minor issue we may have that needs to be discussed, and I’ve honestly been avoiding it. Not that CJ has been bringing it up, I've just made it a point not to. But I can't do that anymore. No more stalling. We need to talk about this today. Now.

Reed cannot know about us.

Turning my head, I press my lips to CJ’s pec and stare at his profile, relaxed and fixated on the TV. The side of my foot rubs against his shin. I’ve been doing that for minutes and he hasn’t said anything or moved the slightest. I think he might like it—me touching his injured leg when I’m not being medical about it. When I’m not rewrapping it or rubbing vitamin E on his scar or helping him do his exercises when he’s not at PT. I lift up and slide my hand under my chin, tapping my fingers rhythmically as I continue looking at him, and that draws his attention.