“Why don’t you two, I dunno, just jump into bed together or something? Because, yowwww!” She shakes her head. “Someone approaches you two when you’re together and they zing back off that wall of sexual tension.”
Because we already got into bed once.
I raise an eyebrow. “There is no sexual tension.” Liar, liar. “There’s a lot of anger, but no sexual tension.”
If you don’t count that god-awful need to have his skin naked against mine and his hands teasing my breasts and his cock inside me.
Yep. No sexual tension whatsoever.
“Whatever. Just sort your shit out. Either talk or don’t. And it ain’t even just for Mila. For you, too, Sof. Because both of you deserve more than this back-and-forth shit.”
“We can’t talk, Lei. We’ve tried. It just doesn’t work, but neither does not talking. I wish I wasn’t so drawn to him. I wish I didn’t give a shit what he does when we aren’t together but I do. And I wish it didn’t matter about the horde of girls waiting for him in LA.”
“Talkin’ about Tate? He’d be flattered.” Conner pushes Leila’s door open.
My cheeks burn. Shit. How much of that did he hear?
“In his dreams,” Leila retorts. “What do you want, jackass?”
“Love you, too, sis,” he replies. His eyes find mine. “I wanted to tell you that you can take my bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
I swallow. Sleep in his bed? “I’m okay in here with Leila. I’ll hear Mila if she wakes.”
“I don’t care about getting up with her if she does. I care about you getting a good night’s sleep, and this one snores like a fuckin’ pig with the flu.” He cocks his thumb back toward Leila.
She flips him the bird.
“Really, I’m okay,” I tell him. “I’ll just punch her in the face if she wakes me up.”
She kicks me. I slap her foot.
“No, you’re takin’ my bed and I’m takin’ the sofa.”
“Stop being a gentleman. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Stop being so fuckin’ difficult, Sof!” He glares at me. “I’m offering you my bed, now fucking take it!”
“You know, you could try asking. I might not be so ‘difficult’ then.” I clench my jaw.
He does the same, except his tics sexily. “Sofie, would you like my bed tonight? I’m happy to take the sofa.”
“Holy shit, he has manners,” I tell Leila.
“Only when prompted,” she replies.
“You two are impossible together.” Conner snaps the words out.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I can see you’re not taking no for an answer. I’ll take your bed.”
“Thank you.” He turns and shuts the door behind him at my words.
“What the hell was that?” Leila asks.
I turn my face to hers slowly. “I don’t know. You tell me. He’s your brother.”
“If I knew I wouldn’t have asked you. Do you think he heard us?”
“I dunno. Maybe? I really don’t know.” I scratch the side of my head. “I’m going to go to bed before he comes up and yells at me.”
I climb off her bed and wave lamely over my shoulder. She laughs at me as I leave and shut her bedroom door behind me. I take my phone from my bra and unlock it, using my screen to guide me through his pitch-black bedroom.
I find his bed and slip beneath the covers. I know which side he sleeps on because the pillow is dented, and I know instantly he was lying here before he came to get me.
I curl my fingers around the top of the duvet and tug it up my body. It settles beneath my chin and I bend my knees up until I’m in the fetal position. I feel tiny in this huge bed, and it’s cold. Freezing cold.
It doesn’t matter if the sheet beneath me is warm from his body. It doesn’t matter if I can work out exactly how he was lying by moving my legs a little.
His bed hasn’t changed. It’s the same as before. I haven’t slept here without him. Ever. He’s always been the body next to me for me to curl into. Right now, though, all I have is the duvet.
Being in his bed feels wrong. It almost feels like an infringement of his privacy. How can I sleep here without him?
He’s imprinted into the sheets. His scent still lingers on the pillow my head rests on.
I close my eyes. Sleep. I have to try. But my brain is buzzing with him, with me, with memories.
I remember how he’d climb into bed next to me and pull me against him. I remember how his legs would bend just perfectly to fit behind mine. How his arms would curl around me. How he’d never care about me waking up.
How one time he ran his hands all over me, kissing me, tugging my shorts down, and eventually sliding inside me. How his lips never left mine as he made love to me in the sweetest, deepest way. How his mouth swallowed my cries as I came all around him, clenching, tightening.
How he kissed me hard after, curling me into his chest. How he held on to me like there was nothing else he had to anchor him to this world but me.
It still feels that way. Every time he’s kissed me since I got back has been a desperate, painful, sweet, aching, forceful explosion of need. Every kiss has been his emotion in a nutshell, and I’ve held on to every one.
I still am. I can feel them, swirling in my hand as I clench my fingers around his duvet.
I can’t let go.
No matter how many times I tell him I want to, I can’t.
I throw the covers back and swing my legs out of the bed. I pause when the floorboards creak beneath my toes, but Mila doesn’t stir. Yet again I use my phone light to guide me from his room on tiptoes.
I ease the door open and glance back at Mila. It hasn’t bothered her, so I close it slowly. Aside from the tiny click when it shuts, it doesn’t make a sound.
I tiptoe downstairs. I know it’s close to midnight, and the darkness of the house would indicate everyone in the house is probably close to sleep. Tate and Aidan are probably out looking for temporary beds for the night.
The gentle sound of guitar strings being plucked fills the air downstairs. Like it has a magnetic pull, I’m drawn to it, and my feet guide me to the garage.
I rest my fingertips against the door and breathe quietly, just listening. The slow, low strum of the notes vibrates across my skin.
Then he sings.
And his voice, like a deep lullaby, like the salve to a sting or the kiss to a wound, carries through the door.
Every one of my hairs stands on end. I find myself leaning fully against the door, and I’m losing myself in his voice. His lyrics are the balm to my soul, and I close my eyes so I can feel it properly.