Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EVERETT
T he power turned on sometime in the middle of the night, but I didn’t bother slipping out of bed or turning the light off. I should’ve. I probably would’ve slept better if I had, but I didn’t want to wake Raine up. She’s still passed out on my chest. Her soft snore is almost familiar now. I never thought I’d be attracted to a snorer, but I kind of like it.
The fire died down a little while ago, and Raine’s been clinging to my chest like I’m her teddy bear ever since. I like it, though. Feeling her against me. I drag my fingers through her hair and study her closed eyes, searching for any lingering bruises, though I know I won’t find them. Not anymore. It’s been weeks, but I’m not sure time matters when it comes to shit like this. Memory of the first time I saw her and how her face was mottled with bruises haunts me. She’s better now. Everything’s healed. Her bottom lip. Her black eye. Everything on the outside is exactly how it should be, and after last night, I’m hoping I was able to fix a few of the wounds Drake cut into her that I can’t see. The damage beneath the surface. Buried deeper than I ever anticipated.
Her dark lashes flutter in the morning light as she opens her eyes and peeks up at me.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft. Raspy. Sexy as hell.
With a smile, I move her hair away from her face. “Hey.”
She pushes herself up and leans her back against one of the chairs in our makeshift fort. The distance messes with my head, and I follow suit, sitting up.
“You good?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Any plans today?” I prod.
She pauses, then shakes her head. “Nope.”
“You hesitated,” I point out.
Rolling her eyes, she explains, “Lucian texted the other day and asked when I was going to pick my things up from my locker. I was debating whether or not that day was today. I think I’ll procrastinate for another week or so.”
“You don’t want to go?”
“Not in the slightest,” she admits. “If I could snap my fingers and have all my things from my locker reappear here, I’d be ecstatic. Unfortunately, it’s not the way things work.” Her gaze falls to her black nails as she clicks them together.
I make a mental note to swing by and grab her things later today then tilt my head and change the subject. “Any reason why you’re sitting all the way over there?”
Her head shifts left and right again. “No?”
“Is that a question?”
She narrows her eyes. “Where should I be?”
I pat my thigh, and she smirks.
“I’m sorry, are you Santa?” she challenges.
I cock my brow. “Are you saying you have a thing for older men? ”
“Are you assuming I have a thing for you?”
“I had my cock buried inside you last night,” I remind her.
Her mouth lifts. “You did, didn’t you.”
With a crook of my finger, I order, “Yeah, I did. Now get your ass over here.”
“Why? So you can bury your cock inside me again?”
“I mean, if it’s on the menu.”
Her grumbling stomach echoes in the fort. We both laugh as she crawls toward me and, fuck, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Or at least was, until she crawls right past me, her ass in the air, and disappears through the fort’s makeshift exit.
“Where are you going?” I call out.
“I need to brush my teeth!”
Good point. I should probably brush mine, too.
Following her path, I climb out of the fort and head to the bathroom. She’s wearing my T-shirt, her bare thighs on full display while she brushes her teeth in front of the mirror. Grabbing my toothbrush, I squeeze some paste onto the bristles, then stick it in my mouth as she peeks at me. Curious. Amused. Entertained. It’s strangely…normal. Brushing my teeth with her. Being in each other’s space. Doing everyday things. I felt it when we cooked lasagna together our first night here. Feel it when I take her to work and pick her up. Feel it when we go grocery shopping. Feel it when I’m studying at the kitchen table and she’s lounging on the couch, watching a show with her bare feet resting on the coffee table or doodling in her notebook.
Even though I’ve tried to keep my distance. Even though she’s been hesitant to open up. It’s like we’ve fallen into a pattern without even realizing it. Like our walls were coming down without either of us even recognizing it.
Bending forward, she spits into the sink, swishes her mouth with water, and dries her mouth on the towel, giving me a glimpse of her pearly whites. I grab her hand and keep her in place as I finish brushing, spit, and wipe my mouth. Once I’m done, I tug her into me and bring us chest to chest.
As she cranes her neck to look up at me, she asks, “Can I help you?”
“How many boyfriends have you had?”
Her brows bunch. “What?”
“Answer the question.”
“One. Well, two if you count Zach Heavensby in third grade, but it only lasted three recesses, so…” She shrugs. “How ‘bout you?”
“No boyfriends,” I joke.
She shoves my shoulder. “Ev?—”
“I’ve had a few casual relationships. Nothing long-term, though.”
Her head bobs in a slow nod as her eyes trail down my body while she toys with the hem of my joggers. “So…why do you ask?”
“Just curious how slow I should take this.”
She lifts her eyes to mine. “And what is this?”
“It’s me and you.”
“Ev…”
Nudging her chin with my knuckle and thumb, I grab the edge of her jaw and bend closer, kissing her. Mint and Raine mingle together on my tongue as I slip it between her lips. When I pull away, her eyes remain closed, and her lips part on a sigh. She swallows and looks up at me again.
“Here’s what I know,” I murmur. “I know you just got out of a shitty relationship. I know we’ve been faking like we’re together. And I know that, after last night, I don’t want to go back to it being fake.”
Her mouth quirks, but her gaze narrows. “Are you serious? ”
“Yeah, Stormie. I don’t want to go back to being fake.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
The same smile teases the edge of her mouth until it splits into a full-blown grin. “Neither do I.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
Her stomach grumbles again. I gather her into a hug, spin her around in the bathroom, and grab the backs of her thighs, encouraging her to wrap them around my waist. I carry her into the kitchen, then set her ass on the edge of the granite island. Once she’s steady, I get to work making breakfast because my girl’s hungry.
“Omelet?” I ask.
“If I can help, then yes.”
“Not gonna let you help.”
“Why, because I screwed up the lasagna?” she asks.
“You didn’t?—”
“I did,” she argues.
She’s right. She did. But I bite the inside of my cheek to avoid hurting her feelings with my amusement. “You hungry or not?”
She nods. “Fine. Yes. I’m hungry.”
“Then let me feed you.”
Her lips purse, but she leans back on her hands. “So stubborn.”
The girl has no idea.
Satisfied, I open the fridge and dig for vegetables. “Onions?”
“Yes, please.”
“Bell peppers?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Jalapenos?”
“Yup. ”
“Bacon?”
“Oo, yes, please.”
“Sausage?”
She hesitates, and I jerk my head back from the fridge, eyeing her. “Sausage?” I repeat.
“Uh, sure?”
I grab her thigh and squeeze.
“Don’t you dare tickle me,” she warns.
“Then don’t you dare lie to me,” I volley back.
“Okay, okay.” She grabs my fingers, trying to pry me off her. “I can take or leave sausage.”
“Not what you said last night,” I quip.
Her eyes widen, and she shoves at my shoulder. “Everett!”
“I’m kidding…kind of.” With a smirk, I let her go, then turn back to the fridge, searching for anything else I might need. There’s a carton of mushrooms on the lower shelf, and I reach for it, set it on the counter next to the other vegetables, and close the fridge door before opening one of the cabinets behind her head.
As she stares at the mushrooms like they’re a nuclear bomb, I bite back my grin. Does she really think I don’t remember?
“Don’t worry, Stormie. I know?—”
“It’s no big?—”
“No mushrooms,” I push, giving her my full attention.
“No mushrooms,” she confirms.
“But you like the taste.” My gaze narrows as I cage her in on the counter. “Unless you were lying.”
“I wasn’t lying, I swear.”
“Then I won’t cut the mushrooms and will put them on top so I can pick them off and put them on my plate.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Let me take care of you, yeah? ”
She bites her bottom lip but gives me a small nod, making me feel like a fucking king.
“That’s my girl.” I give her a quick kiss on the forehead, then grab a pan and set it on the stove.
My girl.
Fuck, it sounds good.