Chapter 6: Her Bed, Her Rules

I sat in the study until dark with the drawer open and the stack in my lap.

Three pages gone, and only two people in the world had been near that key.

I could walk into the living room and ask. They would both say no, and I would watch their faces while they lied.

So I put the stack back, locked the drawer, and said nothing.

If someone in my house was reading me, I would find out what they wanted by giving them something to read.

I did not decide the rest. My body decided it, around ten that night, and my mind caught up on the stairs.

Declan was in the kitchen rinsing a cup that was already clean.

"Upstairs," I said.

He turned. "Jules?"

"Our bed. Now."

His hands went still under the water.

Roz stood in the hall behind him with a book she had not been reading.

"You," I said to her. "Come with us. Sit in the chair by the window, and don't touch anything. Not him, not me, not yourself."

"Is that a rule?"

"It's the new one."

She swallowed. Then she put the book down and followed us up.

In the bedroom I turned on one lamp.

Roz sat in the armchair with her hands gripping the arms, her knees pressed together, her eyes enormous.

Declan stood in front of me. His hands hung at his sides.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want you to shut up."

I unbuttoned his shirt myself.

His skin was warm under my fingers, and his heart pounded against my palm.

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and he let it fall.

I put my mouth on his collarbone, the place that always undid him.

He groaned, low and helpless.

From the chair came a small sound, quickly swallowed.

"Eyes on me," I told him.

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