Page 57 of Sterling Fight

“Sure.” While I keep my eyes aimed at the page, I sense Genie’s movement along the shelves. The curve of her hips. The reach of her arm. The soft hum as she peruses the back of a book.

Suddenly, she’s rounding the chaise where I sit tucked into the corner. The only other seat option in the room is the desk chair which is not comfortable for casual reading.

Genie pauses beside me. Her knee almost brushing mine. “May I sit?”

I nod, acknowledging her question but unable to find my voice.

She sort of falls onto the cushion instead of folding down to it. She also sits very close to me as the back of the chaise does not run the full length of the cushioned seat.

Time moves in slow motion as Genie opens her selected book and flips to pages in the middle instead of starting at the beginning.

My legs spread a little wider than necessary. Her thigh presses against my mine.

Sensing her close proximity might be on purpose, I’m not certain I’m breathing. She teased me last night about wanting to know the ticklish places on her body. And I certainly would like to know every dip and corner that responds to a tickle. Every swell and curve that molds against my hand.

Eventually, Genie shifts, but her thigh only presses tighter to mine. A quick side-eye toward her shows a deep blush on her cheeks.

“You okay over there?” My voice is caught in my throat.

“I’m good.” Her voice is almost as strained as mine.

I realize I haven’t turned a page in my book, so I flip the paper, not certain what’s happening on the page. Hell, I can hardly remember the title of the book at this point.

Genie suddenly fans her face once with her open book and then glances back at the page.

“Whatcha readin’?” I tip my head to catch a look at the back cover, but I can’t seem to place the title of her book either.

“It’s a romance novel.” She flips the book to the front cover, keeping her finger in place to mark her spot. “You have quite the eclectic selection of books.”

“I like to read a variety of things.”

“Ever read this one?” Still holding the book cover upward, finger as a bookmark, I glance at the title.

“I don’t recall,” I lie, having vivid memories of reading the erotic romance. “Maybe you should read me a section. See if it jars my memory.”

“Hmm,” Genie hums. “Okay.”

What? Dear God, no. I hold my breath again, hoping to stop my heart from racing, because as Genie begins reading, I remember exactly which passage she’s stuck on.

“ . . . and then he spreads her thighs, running his hands up the insides. Her flesh is soft, but his destination is fire, calling to him. Blazing with heat and want and a musky scent that⁠—”

I abruptly stand, slamming my own book shut. I scrub a hand down my face and risk a brief glance at Genie before averting my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think I remember that one.”

“You sure?” Her eyes dip down my body and if it weren’t for the precarious position of the book I’m holding, dangling it in front of my zipper, Genie would know just how familiar I am with that passage, and just how much her reading it in that smokey voice has turned me on.

Friends. Not really my fiancée. We are friends. I remind myself on repeat, but I’ve never wanted to be only friends with Genie.

I’ve always wanted more.

Quickly, I excuse myself but not before leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. Closing my eyes, I inhale her scent, drawing it into my nose and holding the fragrance, knowing she’s going to play out in my mind in the exact fantasy she was reading.

Only I don’t want the fantasy. I want the reality of Genie.

Touching her flesh. Inhaling her heat. Breathing her in every night beside me.

“Well, well, well,” Clay sings the following day, as he enters my designated office at Sylver Seed & Soil which I hardly ever visit. “First you take a day off on Monday. Then you enter the office on a Wednesday. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

He’s all tease but I don’t appreciate the humor. “Funny.”