Bayward Street by Addison Jane

kissing him softly. I nuzzled at his jaw with my nose and he complied, tilting his head to the side. I pressed my body against him and his hands gripped my hips, pulling me so I was lying right on top of him, eliciting a gasp from my mouth. His fingers dug into my sides almost painfully, but I ignored it, working my way along his jaw until I found his mouth and I licked at the corner of his lips.
    “Fay, stop,” he murmured. It was almost empowering, knowing that I had him so wound up that he was beginning to plead with me.
    “Why?” I whispered against his mouth.
    When one of his hands released my hip and grabbed a fist full of my hair, I inhaled sharply. He took the opportunity to take control, drawing our faces together and claiming my mouth. His hand drifted up underneath my shirt, skimming over my skin, and causing me to shudder. My senses were going crazy, excitement flooding in, but nerves fought their way through too as things began to get more intense, more than I’d ever done or felt before.
    Heath pulled back, the both of us heaving as we tried to draw more air into our lungs. “We need to stop.”
    I licked my sore lips. “Why?” I asked again.
    “Because this isn’t going to take away the pain,” he explained through deep breaths.
    I opened my eyes, finally looking down at him. There was something new in his eyes. I knew he wanted me, it was completely obvious, but what I saw wasn’t lust or passion in his eyes. It was something that awfully resembled pity.
    I pushed away, scrambling off him and climbing off the bed. “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped.
    Heath groaned, not moving from the bed as he rubbed at his face. “Look at you like what?”
    “Like I’m a charity case.”
    He sat up suddenly. “Stop being fucking stupid, Fable.”
    “Then what is this?” I held my arms out wide looking for an explanation. Feeling like an idiot.
    Heath sat up and pushed off the bed, and rounded the edge to where I was standing. “I don’t know what this is…” he flicked his finger between us, “…but I’m not about to figure it out while you’re mourning the loss of your friend. Not going to fucking disrespect you like that.”
    I couldn’t help but stare at him. Heath really was something else. I wanted to be angry at him, but I couldn’t. Once again, he was trying to protect me, this time from myself.
    His hand cupped my cheek. “Come on, let’s get you some food.”
    Nodding, I let him take my hand and lead me back downstairs. It was beginning to feel normal to have him touching me in some way.
    And that alone scared the shit out of me because Bayward Street and Kings Crescent were two completely different worlds, ones that weren’t meant to mix.
    This should not be normal.

Chapter Thirteen
     

     
    We found Braydon and Layla sitting at the breakfast bar chatting and laughing. The two of them seemed to have formed some kind of weird friendship based on sarcasm and cheap shots.
    When Layla spotted me, she grinned. “Rich boy here made sandwiches. Who would have thought?”
    Giggling, I boosted myself onto the stool beside her. Braydon tried to look offended as he slid a plate across to me. “Your friend seems to think I have slaves that do everything for me.”
    Taking a huge bite of my food, I mumbled, “I’m surprised you don’t.”
    “Mom won’t let us, something about human rights and shit.”
    Layla giggled, and Heath looked over to his brother rolling his eyes.
    I placed my food back on the plate, I was starving but hadn’t eaten much in the last few days so I knew I needed to pace myself or it would make me sick. “What sports do you play?” I asked curiously.
    Braydon tilted his head to the side. “What makes you think we’re into sports?”
    Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I tried to find the words. “I just noticed… you both are like… I dunno…”
    “Sexy as fuck with amazing bodies?” Braydon offered, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I looked over at