Page 38 of Friends to WHAT?!

Unable to stop it, my finger presses on the lower end of her smile.

Heat from her mouth hits my skin.

I curse and pull back.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she breathes. “I liked that.”

My pulse jumps. “That’s because you think boundary crossing is romantic,” I reply. “Like in your books.”

“Not romantic,” she disagrees. Her hair flows around her when she shakes her head vigorously—cutely.

I grab her cheeks, stopping the dizzy-mobile. “I don’t think that’s a good idea anytime after the fourth drink,” I caution.

She grimaces, and it takes her a moment to focus on my face. “Maybe not,” she agrees.

I rub my thumbs on her soft, glittering skin.

“What were we talking about?” she asks.

I smile ruefully. “We were discussing the concerning things you—and your book club—find romantic.”

Light dawns. “Right.” She starts to nod, then thinks better of it. “You said boundary crossing.”

“I did,” I confirm. “For reasons that seem obvious.” The fact that we’re here, now, at the forefront of those reasons. If Leora’sbook club hadn’t deemed kidnapping romantic, Almond never would have told Amia that it was, and Amia never would have brought it up to me, and I never would have found myself in an alley with my two biggest bullies as we plotted the kidnapping of my dearest friend and greatest love.

“That’s not romantic,” Leora claims, again. “Boundary crossing is…” She trails off, and her eyes travel upwards as she searches for the end of her sentence. “Hot,” she says finally, coming back to me. “It’s hot.”

My eyebrows rise. “Hot?” I ask incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

She shrugs. “I mean, in the right circumstances? Not all the time. Just sometimes. Just if…” She blushes, abandons herif, and chooses a different direction. “It can be hot. Just now, it was hot. I can’t say that I would have liked that if someone else had done it, but I already know that you’re safe. I know that if I really, truly sayno, you’ll abide by that.” She frowns. “Though… you did ignore my last no. So maybe I shouldn’t be so sure…”

“You can be sure,” I promise her, regret hitting hard. That it’s even in question isdisgusting. “If you say no, that’s no.”

Her face clears, as close to sober as she’s come in some hours. “I know,” she says. “I’m not worried about it. Not really. Last time, it wasn’t even really you. Anyone could tell you were under duress during that situation. You were as kidnapped as I was.”

Relief hits me hard, slumping my shoulders and battering my heart. “I don’t think it was quite the same,” I say. “But I’m glad you seem to understand… and that you trust me.”

She lifts her hand, blinks at the straw-sticks in between her fingers, then clicks them at me. “I trust you,” she says. Just that. So simple, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “And that’s why you should trust me. Cross a boundary or three, and don’t apologize for it. With me, you can. With me, most of the things you’d consider to be a boundary aren’t even there in the firstplace—not for you. You’re Wolfe. If you want to touch my lip, you can touch my lip. If you want to…” Another thought she doesn’t give me, and another blush to go with it.

My curiosity spikes.

“The point is,” she says quickly. “You don’t have to apologize to me. Relax, Wolfe, and maybe channel some of the man who stood up in a bar full of people and demanded what he wants.” Her eyelids fall, not enough to close, but enough to make me shift in my seat as a blush floods my cheeks and burns my ears.

I change the subject. Or, I bring us back to the one at hand. Whatever. “You’ll tell me if Idocross a boundary I’m not supposed to be near?” I ask, just to confirm. I don’t think it will actually be a problem considering I’m skittish just getting near anything that mightlooklike a boundary, but still. I’d like the confirmation that she will hold me accountable if I need it, and not let anything go for the sake of my growth. Growth is good. Growth is healthy. But I cannot let my growth become the sort that gets too big, throws my loved ones in shadow, and hides them from much-needed sunlight.

“I’ll tell you,” Leora agrees. Her eyes drop to her ice, and she reminds me that perhaps this isn’t the best time for us to be having this conversation, considering how many drinks she’s had. “I’m going to get one of these ice cubes to my mouth with my chopsticks,” she says. “They will cross the boundary of this glass and enter the confines of my lips.”

My lips quirk, and I sit back to watch her work.

I stare, content, for several minutes as she struggles, then check the video monitor by the wall. Amia sleeps soundly on her back, limbs spread wide and blanket kicked off. Her chest rises and falls with her breaths.

My sweet girl.

I return my attention to Leora. She squints at her ice, hunched over the table to make the distance as short as possible.Her pert nose scrunches up, and the tip of her tongue presses between her lips.

My darling starling.