Chapter Twenty
Clove
Half past twelve.
I knew that because I’d checked the clock on the nightstand three separate times in the last ten minutes, like the numbers might magically rearrange themselves if I stared hard enough.
Midnight came and went. So did twelve fifteen.
And now here I was, wide awake, staring at the ceiling like it could lull me to sleep.
I shifted on the mattress and sighed.
My body was exhausted.
My brain refused to shut the hell up.
I sighed and rolled onto my back, staring up at the darkened ceiling.
The room was dim, lit only by the muted glow of the TV across the room.
Ender was stretched out on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting over his stomach.
The volume was low, just enough to create background noise without actually being something I could focus on.
“I’m still awake,” I announced to the room.
Ender chuckled softly from the couch. “Yeah, I know.”
I propped myself up on my elbows and looked over at him. “I want to be asleep.”
“Then close your eyes and go to sleep.” His tone was gruff, but there was amusement tucked underneath it, like he found my irritation entertaining. Which, honestly, was rude.
I dropped back onto the pillow and crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe I’ve slept so much the past week that I’ve met my quota.”
“Met your quota?” he repeated, laughter clear in his voice now.
“Yes. You can only sleep so much before your body’s like, no thanks, we’re done.” I nodded to myself like this was a solid scientific fact. “I’ve used up all my sleep.”
“You’re crazy, baby.”
I cracked one eye open and glanced at him. He was still staring at the TV, lips curved in a faint smile.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I asked.
“Because you’re not sleeping.”
I frowned. “You only sleep if I’m sleeping?”
He nodded once, like that settled it. “I also try to only go to the bathroom when you’re sleeping or occupied by one of the girls.”
I wrinkled my nose, thinking back. “You do do that.”
“I know,” he said calmly. “I just told you I do.”
“Well… now I feel bad.”
He exhaled, then planted his feet on the floor. The TV clicked off, plunging the room into deeper darkness. My breath hitched before I could stop it.
Ender stood.
Shirtless.
My eyes immediately betrayed me, sliding over him without permission. The broad span of his shoulders. The way his muscles shifted as he stretched. The faint lines of ink along his ribs and arms. The soft shadows carved by the low light made him look unfairly good.
I swallowed and licked my lips. “What are you doing?”
He crossed the room in a few easy steps and stopped beside the bed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sick of sleeping on that damn couch,” he said, his voice low. “And I’m gonna help you fall asleep.”
Heat bloomed in my chest, sliding downward in a way that made me acutely aware of how close he was standing.
“Why didn’t you tell me the couch was uncomfortable?” I asked, my voice softer now.
He winced slightly. “For one night it’s not bad. But more than that and it sucks.”
He looked down at me, expression thoughtful. Assessing.
“Uh,” I said quickly, nerves creeping in. “You can sleep in the bed, and I can take the couch tonight.”
He shook his head immediately. “Not gonna let you screw your back up too.”
“Well, you’re not going to keep doing it.”
He didn’t answer. Just looked at me in that way that made me feel like he was seeing things I hadn’t said out loud.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“Shit I shouldn’t be,” he muttered.
My heart kicked hard against my ribs.
I was definitely thinking things I shouldn’t be. Things I’d spent years shoving into a mental box labeled off-limits. Things that had gotten louder and more insistent since the day he’d found me on the road and wrapped me up like I was something precious.
“Scoot over,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to help you fall asleep.”
I hesitated, then did as he asked, shifting to give him space. He climbed onto the bed but stayed on top of the blanket, lying beside me instead of under it.
We stared up at the ceiling together in the dark.
“This was your plan?” I asked.
He laughed quietly. “I’m just winging it, baby.”
I snorted. “Comforting. Now what?” I asked after a beat.
He hesitated. “Uh…”
“I know,” I said suddenly. “I saw this thing where if you can’t sleep, you just start randomly listing things.”
He turned his head toward me. “Randomly list things?”
I nodded, settling into the mattress. “I’m gonna need you to get under the covers first because I can’t handle this.”
He huffed out a laugh and slid under the blanket beside me. “I’m only staying until you fall asleep.”
“Yeah. Totally.” I could feel the heat of his body under the blanket, and I silently hoped it wouldn’t go away.
“Okay,” he said, voice quieter now. “Let’s try this random thing.”
I smiled into the darkness. “I’ll start.”
“Fire away, baby.”
I closed my eyes. “Flamingo.”
“Flamingo?” he repeated. “What in the hell has you thinking about flamingos?”
“It’s random,” I defended. “And this isn’t going to work if you question every word I say. Flamingo is random, so now it’s your turn.”
He sighed. “Tylenol.”
I laughed. “That’s what popped into your head after flamingo?”
“You said random.”
“Dear Lord,” I murmured. “Flamingo and Tylenol.”
“What you got to go with that, baby?”
The word baby sent a shiver down my spine.
“Goosebumps,” I blurted.
“Geese.”
“Feather.”
“Is this supposed to be working?” he asked.
“I think we have to do it longer,” I said, yawning despite myself. “Just keep going.”
“Dog.”
“Cat.”
“Meow.”
“Mouse.”
“Cheese.”
“Head.”
I giggled. “Only someone from Wisconsin would connect cheese and head.”
He yawned. “Potato.”
“Sour cream.”
“Cheese.”
“Head.”
“Copycat.”
“Cat burglar.”
Our voices slowed. Words blurred together. My eyelids grew heavy, and warmth seeped into my bones, not just from the blanket, but from Ender’s presence beside me.
The last thing I remembered was the steady sound of his breathing matching mine.
Then sleep finally claimed me.