Page 141 of Bulletproof

“Now, you can crush me.”

“I’m not heavy enough,” I said softly, sheepishly, burying my face in the hollow of his neck, licking the salt off his skin, loving him sweaty and sated under me.

“No, you’re not,” he said, one hand on my ass, kneading gently, the other in my hair as he fisted his hand in it and lifted my head. “You’re perfect.”

I wasn’t, but the kiss he gave me, with lots of tongue, before he rolled me back over, told me he thought I was. It was the only thing that mattered.

There was a whirlwind of changes. Just like Dane had figured, and it was really annoying, having the man know things before I did.

Mr. Riggs and Mrs. Pearlman from Benchmark had no problem leasing the new office space they had made for Strauss and Harcourt to Harvest Design instead. We paid them, and they paid us when we made something happen. It sounded like it would work out just fine.

I moved into the spacious wood-and-glass office with Dylan and Fallon, and we made it our own. We were ready to reopen our full-service graphic design business, for me and Dylan again, and for Fallon for the first time. The space itself was warm and homey, and no one failed to comment on it. And I was surprised how many people there were. Dylan had contacted all our old clients, Fallon had brought new ones, and Aaron Sutter—who was putting up a new hotel in Sydney, Australia—wanted a new logo for his flagship, The Summerville. It had to incorporate Australia without a hint of any traditional symbol, as well as encompass Sutter as a brand.

“Are you kidding?” I asked him. “I never have any luck creating things for you. I failed the first time out, remember?”

“Yeah, but I think that was because I didn’t really know what I wanted either.”

I squinted at him as he threw one of those squeezy stress balls against the wall in my office.

“That’s annoying, you know.”

He grunted from where he was stretched out on my couch.

“Where did you even get that?”

He pointed at the bowl of them on the coffee table beside him. Dylan had made them with our logo on them. I had just missed that she put some of the damn things in my office.

“You’re supposed to use them to release tension, not annoy your designer.”

“Who says that annoying you doesn’t decrease my stress level?” My eyes flicked to his, and he waved.

“How’s Jaden?” I asked him.

“Good. He’s enjoying school, and he met somebody, another aspiring chef just like him.”

I rolled my eyes. “That means nothing. I doubt he’s replaced you already, Sutter. He knows he needs to give the romantic part time and not jump into bed with someone else.”

He gave me a shrug. “You’re thinking I’m bothered, and I’m not. I don’t even care if we remain friends. Right now, since I’m paying for his education, we have to stay in touch, but beyond the next two years … who knows?”

“Why?”

“I don’t stay friends with my exes,” he said, continuing to play handball with something not designed to do that against the wall of my office.

“I’d like to point out that we’re exes and trying to be friends.”

“That’s different,” he told me. “You, I loved.”

My eyes locked on his.

“It’s true, and that’s why I’m trying. If this is all I can have, I’ll take this.”

I smiled at him, and his eyes were warm.

“Oh my God, Jory, can you stop with that already?!” Fallon roared as he came through my office door, having hurled it open.

We all froze.

“See,” I said, smirking at Aaron. “I told you it was annoying.”