Chapter 23 Sweet Comfort
Sweet Comfort
Maisie
Waking with anvils for eyelids, I fight against the heaviness until my eyes open and find Connor’s across the room.
“Hey there, how are you feeling?” he asks, shifting to stand and meet me at the bed.
“I’ve been better, that’s for sure.” A breathy laugh pushes past my lips, but there is no humor in it.
“I’ll bet. Take your time sitting up,” he instructs with a hand on my upper back. The contact is both searing and soothing.
I take his advice, checking in with each part of my body as I stretch out and move to put my legs over the side of my bed. My back still aches pretty badly. I’m a little lightheaded, and I feel weighed down from sleep, but I can tell I’m past the worst of it, which is a relief.
Connor is looking at me with slightly furrowed brows, concern etched in his hazel eyes. I hope he doesn’t think differently of me now.
“Thank you for helping me.” I rub my eyes. “That’s happened to me before, but I was struggling to convey what I needed in the moment. What you did was perfect…” I look away.
“Hey.” He cups my chin and lifts my face tenderly until our eyes meet. “You didn’t need to worry about anything in that moment except breathing. I’m glad I was here with you. I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but please know it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
His words soothe something in my soul. Like gluing a chipped piece back onto handmade pottery, proving its worth by putting in the effort to save it. My shoulders drop, and my cheeks warm at his touch and kind words.
Connor steps between my dangling legs and adjusts his hand to tenderly hold the back of my neck.
His other hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and I instinctively reach my hand up to grab his forearm as he does.
He sighs and releases a devastating smile, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
In this sensitive state, I think my mind is finally catching up to what my body has known for some time now: I like Connor. And not just as a friend.
But his friendship is what I need most right now.
I’m not ready for a relationship after everything with Karsen anyway—not that Connor would want that either.
I don’t even know who I am, and trusting myself or anyone else isn’t something that I’m capable of at the moment.
I won’t jeopardize our friendship trying to figure any of this out. We’re friends. End of story.
He breaks me out of my thoughts by saying, “Do you want to talk about what happened with your parents?”
Do I? Not really. A small weight reappears in my chest at the thought of all that they said. “No,” I admit. “They’re not bad people. They just don’t always understand me.” I sigh. That’s all I have in me to share right now.
He scans my face like he’s waiting to see if I’ll say more. When I don’t, the side of his mouth tugs up slightly. Then he says, “Should we watch a movie? Let that beautiful brain have something else to focus on while your body rests some more?”
Did he just call my brain beautiful? My skin prickles with delight at his words, my traitorous body rebelling against the internal decision I just made.
Connor removes his hands and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for my response.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds nice,” I stammer out, still reeling from his words and feeling a rush of cold from the loss of his hands on me.
He quirks a smile and grabs my laptop from its usual place on the desk. He sets it in an open position next to me and tells me to pick the movie. Then he shifts to squat down below my bed in search of a blanket and extra pillows, since we always set up a cozy cocoon on my bed for movie nights.
I suck in a breath as my mind registers his position.
My legs are still hanging off the side of the bed, spread wide from when his body was between them.
He is practically kneeling, head just off to the side of my left leg.
My brain involuntarily thinks through what else he could do in this position.
How it would feel if he only shifted a little more to the left and if these pesky clothes weren’t in the way…
I swallow down the rush of desire and quickly shuffle back so I’m leaning against the wall my bed is pushed against. I can’t remember the last time I felt desire like this.
Certainly not in any recent memory with Karsen.
That all felt out of obligation. It must be the panic attack.
It’s making me vulnerable, needy. I would probably want this with anyone who was nice to me right now. No, you wouldn’t. No, not anyone.
When he pops back up with the supplies, I do my best to smile normally, but I’m not sure if I sell it or not.
He sets the pillows and blankets on the bed in a way that ensures maximum coziness—seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil—then walks over to grab the food from where he abandoned it when he first arrived.
“I got us burgers and fries from the dining hall, but I grabbed a gallon of ice cream too.” He holds up the container triumphantly. “Which do you wanna start with?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” I say with a laugh as I will my body to cool down.
He retrieves two spoons from the bag and makes his way back to the bed. He pops the lid off the ice cream carton and hands me my spoon. “Ladies first,” he says with a wink.
I don’t hesitate. I dip my spoon and take a huge bite, moaning around the sweet comfort of it.
Connor blushes and climbs onto my bed, adjusting so he is lying next to me, propped up on one elbow, his legs bent in but still hanging off the side a little.
His large swimmer’s body wasn’t designed to fit on half of a twin-sized bed.
He reaches with his own spoon toward the ice cream, but I parry, knocking it out of the way with my own.
“Hey!” He raises his voice teasingly. “This is to share.”
“I never said I was good at sharing,” I reply, a wide smile breaking around the spoon in my mouth.
He smiles in turn and reaches out to take the spoon from my mouth to place it back in the container. “That’s all right,” he says, “you don’t have to share. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He says it so nonchalantly, like it’s a self-evident truth. Butterflies rush in my stomach and settle in my core, but they’re followed quickly by a pinch in my chest. The events of the day wash through me unbidden.
Failure, my mind whips at me. You don’t deserve more than what Karsen has to offer. My mom’s earlier reaction is already embedded in my subconscious.
My gaze falls, and I move further away from Connor on the bed.
“Ready to start the movie?” I ask, voice devoid of emotion.
Connor’s brows pinch as he eyes me, then moves to sit up into a less relaxed position. He looks a bit hurt, but nods. “Sure, let’s start,” he says.
He doesn’t try to eat any more ice cream. We watch in silence, and not even the comfort of a movie I’ve seen a hundred times can wash away the sticky feeling coating my heart and mind.