Chapter 16
LAINEY
My heart is hammering in my chest as I slip Jensen’s T-shirt on over my head, immediately getting drunk on his intoxicating scent. Ocean waves, clean, and a hint of apple.
The pizza was delicious, and I ate way too much of it. We’re definitely going to have to try that place again. But my food baby is the least of my problems right now.
Is staying here tonight a bad idea?
Probably, but there’s no way I’m leaving him alone after today, especially after the way he cried out for me in the tunnel and on the ice, looking at me like I was the only person in the entire world who could make it all better.
I know without a doubt that he wouldn’t leave me if the roles were reversed.
He’s on the phone with Luca when I stride into his bedroom to say good night, Bob’s Burgers playing softly on the TV.
“I’ll keep you updated,” he murmurs as his gaze flicks over to me, his chest rising with an inhale as his eyes fall to the tops of my bare thighs. “Love you, man. Bye.”
He ends the call and drops his phone on the bed beside him. “They kind of fit you.”
I chuckle, glancing down at his oversize shirt, which stops at my upper thighs, and a pair of his basketball shorts, which go down past my knees. I feel like a toddler who played dress-up in their dad’s closet.
“Sort of.” I smile, awkwardly standing in the doorway.
“I’m not going to bite you if you come closer.” His intense stare holds me in place.
I’m not scared of his bite. If anything, I’m scared of wanting it as badly as I do and being anywhere closer to him.
“I know.” Forcing my leg forward, I take a step and another as my heart slowly rises into my throat.
God, why am I so nervous right now? It’s just Jensen and me hanging out in a bedroom—something we’ve done countless times before. But this … this time feels different.
He knows it. I know it.
That tension that’s been bubbling to the surface is close to erupting, and once that happens, there’s no going back.
He pats the top of the comforter beside him.
I teeter back and forth, contemplating whether to hang out for a few minutes or go to the spare bedroom I’m staying in tonight.
Without breaking my stare, he scoots over to the edge on his side, giving me space on mine, as if a few extra inches is what I need right now—I need more like a few thousand miles.
Those swirling chocolate-brown eyes of his melt, tugging at my heart, and my body is reacting before I can stop it.
Just like how we always lay when we were kids, I hop up in bed, on top of the blanket, and settle on my side of the bed, laying my head against the pillows.
“Thank you,” he whispers softly, and my head whips his way.
“For what?”
He leans back and rolls onto his side to face me. “For being here. If you weren’t, I … I’d be really going through it.”
Reaching out, I rest my hand on top of his. “I’m here.”
The side of his lips tip up, and he parts them to say something, but nothing comes out. Wetting his lips, he breaks eye contact—something he only does when he’s uncomfortable. “I’m so fucking … mad. Sad? Disappointed?”
My thumb brushes the top of his hand. “I know. Maybe I should’ve been harder on you about owning up to—”
His blazing stare finds me. “Don’t. None of this is your fault, Lain. None of it.” He pauses to re-center himself. “Don’t think for a second that you hold any ounce of blame. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you did.”
I want to argue with him, to tell him that it was my job, both as his PT and as his friend. That my heart has felt like it weighs a thousand pounds since I saw that hit on the ice.
“I’m serious, Lainey. This is all on me. All of it.” He sits up taller and leans toward me, his hand stretching forward and sliding along my cheek and into my hair as he cups my jaw.
My body catches fire, my brain turning to mush as his thumb brushes back and forth.
“O-okay,” I stammer. “Promise me something?”
“Anything,” he breathes without skipping a beat.
“That if you get too stuck in your head, you’ll let me know so I can help get you out.” I lean into his touch instinctively. “I know it might be hard, but I don’t want you isolating yourself when I’m right here.”
Slowly, he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, his hooded eyes dropping to my nose and lower before he catches himself and meets my gaze again. “I promise.”
Oh God, I need to get out of here because that look in his eyes, that hunger, is driving me insane, and I don’t trust myself not to pounce if it continues.
“I should head to bed,” I whisper, forcefully looking at his long lashes to prevent myself from staring at his full lips.
“Yeah,” he murmurs softly. “You, uh … can sleep in here if you want. Like old times.”
Like old times … except the tension between us has now been building for over thirteen years.
His face saddens, his eyes glossing over as he disappears to somewhere else in his mind.
“If you want, yeah.” My voice is higher pitched than normal.
Dammit. I should have said no and left. Oh God, this is not a good idea. Taking a deep breath, I try to get my shit together, forcing the intrusive dirty thoughts of Jensen from my mind.
I’m his friend.
I can be the friend he needs tonight.
Just his friend.
Hopping off the bed, I walk over to the basket of blankets in the corner and grab a super-soft one that feels brand-new.
I flick the light off and ask him, “Do you need anything? Water? Ice?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got water, and there’s an ice pack on it now. I’ll just toss it on the nightstand before I pass out.”
Linda and Bob talk on the TV, thankfully filling in the silence as I walk back over to the bed and slide on top of the comforter, fluffing and draping the new blanket over my legs.
My phone is still over fifty percent charge, so I set a couple of alarms and set it on the nightstand before really nestling into bed, facing the TV that’s mounted on the opposite wall.
Slowly, my body relaxes, more than it has in a long while. I’ve missed company in bed. Mine has been so quiet and empty, lonely. Just having him next to me makes me feel better.
Even with my life up in question, Jensen makes the future feel less intimidating. My career. My relationship with Jensen. The possibility that I’m … pregnant. The world around me is spinning faster than I can handle it, but he’s my constant, keeping me grounded.
“Good night,” he whispers and turns the TV down.
We’ve always slept with the TV on—or at least Jensen has. I know he hates the dark ever since that night on the bridge. I don’t love it, but it doesn’t bother me, and if it makes him feel more at peace, then I can live with it.
“Good night,” I whisper back, suddenly emotional out of nowhere.
It takes me a moment to recognize what I’m feeling.
I’m scared … scared that my decision to be at his side today will cost me my job, that I’m pregnant with my asshole ex’s baby, and that my life is spiraling out of control.
I brush the blanket out on my lap, fidgeting with it, and rest my hands flat at my sides. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I let it fall wherever it may.
My pinkie twitches, and for a second, I imagine that Jensen’s hand is reaching out for mine, as if it’s his heart stretching out to intertwine with my own.
A song plays in the background, some lovey-dovey tune in their Valentine’s Day special episode does little to ease the racing in my chest and the dream playing out in my mind.
Another tear streaks down my temple and into my hair.
Something brushes my pinkie, and this time, I suck in a sharp breath because it’s not my imagination; it’s real. Jensen’s finger grazes mine, and time stands still.
A delicate caress gently sweeps over my finger before something nestles in the crook between my ring finger and pinkie.
No words are spoken, no confessions made, not a peep from either of us as we sit above time and space, where we’re the only two people in the world, without worry or fear of what’s around the corner.
That’s how we stay until the night fades away and our dreams pull us under.
Morning creeps into the corners of my eyes as they flutter open. A foreign closet stares at me, and it takes me a moment to remember that I’m not at my apartment. I’m at Jensen’s place.
My mind starts waking up more and more. I should go grab ice and some ibuprofen for Jensen when he wakes up. His knee is going to be very tender and sore.
Stretching my toes straight down in bed, I freeze in place as I realize the thing behind me isn’t a pillow. My body instantly becomes aware of his presence draped over me like my own personal blanket.
His arm stretches across my waist, his fingers wrapping beneath my torso, locking me in place. The length of his body is firmly pressed against mine, every long, toned inch of him.
A groan escapes his lips, and my cheeks burn as his warm breath strokes my ear. My breathing quickens, and I wet my lips, contemplating how I’m going to slither out from his grasp without him waking.
Moving my legs ever so slightly, I feel his knees pressing into the backs of my calves. The second I move, he’s going to wake, and I’m scared of causing him any more pain than he’s already going to be in when he comes to.
Shit.
Softly clearing my throat, I rub his forearm with my thumb. “Hey.” I pause, waiting for any sign that he’s awake. “Jensen.”
He groans again and hugs me even tighter, his arm like a bear trap around my waist.
“Jensen,” I whisper more fervently, and this time, he grunts.
“Oh shit.” His deep, raspy voice floods my body from where his lips are nearly pressed against my ear, the sexiness of his voice warms me to the core.
“Fuuuck,” he grounds out in pain, rolling onto his back and holding his knee.
In a way, his shooting pain is a perfect way for us to walk around any awkwardness caused by the early morning cuddles. But I still feel horrible that he has to feel it at all.