Leah (Carter #2)

Twelve

Leah

Y ou convince yourself for so long that you’re done with someone. You think you’ve been through the worst of it, and that the pain couldn’t be as potent as it was the second that heart of yours snapped open.

All of that was rubbish, though. Truth was, the heart never closes back up again. Not all the way. There are cracks and scars along its surface, a sharp reminder that it’ll never be smooth and untouched again.

Needless to say, I was throwing myself a full-blown pity party tonight, musing myself by constructing metaphorical bullshit. I was getting creative, especially after I’d dug out Melanie’s bottle of vodka she’d left in my car that I’d forgotten to leave at the apartment. I’d gulped a few mouthfuls down in an effort to get to sleep. Sadly, it wasn’t working, and I ended up facing the wall.

I tried to shut my eyes for the hundredth time, but darkness wouldn’t come, no matter how hard I tried.

I want more, he’d said.

Now he was sleeping upstairs while I was drowning in my sorrows in my old suite bedroom. It was Deja Vu all over again. I knew time was slipping through my fingers. That he was likely to leave tomorrow, and maybe that was a good thing. He’d rocked my world, and not in a pleasant way, but more in a holy-shit-I’m-not-over-him-entirely kind of way.

It would be good when he left, I told myself. He’d go back to his world, and I’d continue living in mine.

So why did that hurt so much?

Why had what he said clawed its way inside my soul? I knew what my brain was telling me. It was warning me not to accept his word. He could be taking me down that same path again. But my heart—that damn freaking muscle—was playing by its own rules.

A faint knock sounded out.

I opened my eyes in the darkness and sat up slowly in bed, straining to listen. It came again, and I followed the sound to the window. I rubbed my eyes, a small smile already playing at my lips as I noticed his face peering through the glass.

What the hell?

I climbed off the bed and walked to the window. It was already opened, but the air was so dry and hot, it had offered me little relief in the summer heat.

“What are you doing, Carter?” I whispered at him in disbelief.

“Knocking on your window,” he answered, before adding, “Like I used to.”

I sighed, pretending to be irritated when I wasn’t. “I didn’t realize we were going down memory lane at two in the morning.”

“It’s not like you were sleeping.”

“How long have you been at the window?”

“Enough to warrant you filing a restraining order against me.”

I burst out laughing. “Wow, there’s something insanely cool about a rock star knocking on my window like a creepy dude.”

“You could make any guy creepy, Leah.”

I rolled my eyes, grinning. "Thanks?"

He smiled back at me through the mesh. “Open up, and let me in.”

I stared helplessly at the screen in front of us. “How am I meant to remove this? It’s not like the trailer without the flywire.”

“You should be able to pull on the plastic tags at the bottom there.”

“How about I just open the door for you?”

“How about you fulfill my fantasy and pull this out?”

Cursing under my breath, I rubbed my eyes again and grabbed at the plastic tag on the bottom corner of the screen. I huffed as I tried to pull it back, but it didn’t budge. “It’s not working,” I muttered under my breath, tugging again. “It’s stuck.”

He watched me pull in vain, and then he exhaled dramatically, resting his forehead against the screen. “This was meant to be romantic and easy. I was meant to climb into your room and sweep you off your feet.”

I felt my chest expand from his words. I smiled like an idiot at him as I tried again, pulling harder than before. The screen suddenly popped out, causing me to fall back and land hard on my ass. A jolt of pain shot up my tailbone and I yelped, falling to my side.

“Shit,” he cursed, knocking the screen to the floor before he climbed inside. Immediately, he knelt down beside me and his arms went around me. “Are you alright?”

I was shaking in his arms, and not from pain, but from laughter. He looked down at me, his eyebrows coming together in confusion as he watched me lose my shit in a fit of giggles.

Maybe I was a little tipsy from all that vodka.

“That was so embarrassing,” I said, turning completely red. Thank God it was dark, or else he’d see how flushed I was.

He shook his head as his hand trailed down my side and settled at the top of my ass. For a second, it seemed so normal for him to rub me where he knew I was hurt, and my breath thinned as I watched his concern fade into a lazy smile.

“Nicely done,” he remarked. “Now we’ve probably woken up the entire house with all that noise.”

“You should have just come knocking on the door,” I told him.

“I know. I’m a fucking idiot, trying to be Casanova. Romance is a lot harder than I thought.”

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing again. “It was a nice effort, especially for a guy that shouldn’t be here.”

“You want me to be here, don’t lie.”

My laughter died.

He may have appeared like he was joking, but I saw a look of seriousness wash over his features, making his smile waver. Barely moving, we breathed each other in for a short while.

“You’re bad news,” I muttered to him.

He stared about my face, settling on my mouth. “You like that.”

I felt a stir at the very bottom of my stomach; like a tiny flame growing into a fireball, it intensified.

I knew the damn feeling well.

Desire.

Leave it to Carter to make me feel things I hadn’t felt in forever after seeing him for a few measly hours.

“I don’t,” I then denied, but it was obviously a lie. I didn’t even try to fake it.

“Why do you smell like alcohol?” he then asked, wrinkling his nose.

I looked behind him, and he followed my gaze to the night table. Still wrapping his arm around me, he shuffled over and grabbed it. He inspected the bottle, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Grey Goose,” he read. “Nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Why the fuck are you drinking Grey Goose straight from the bottle all by yourself, Leah? Are you some alcoholic now?”

I giggled again. Fucking giggles. “No. I just… needed something strong to shut my brain up.”

He eyed me curiously, his mouth twitching upward. “What’s your brain rattling on about?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me, Carter. You already know.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then he nodded. Surprisingly, he took a quick gulp of the vodka and pounded it on the night table. In the dark, I watched his tongue flick out, trailing his bottom lip. “Very nice, that.”

“It’s smooth,” my tipsy ass added. “And creamy.”

“Creamy, huh?” He held me captive with his gaze, and I felt it all the way down to my bones. I could feel that desire in my centre throbbing now. I wanted to nuke it.

He let go of me then, and I was a little disappointed the moment was over, as he helped me back to my feet. Grabbing the screen, he leaned it against the wall. “I’ll fix it in the morning,” he told me, shutting the window until it was only a few inches open.

Silence started to creep up on us again, and I wanted to nuke that bitch to smithereens too.

“What are you doing here, Carter?” I asked, studying him closely.

“Going down memory lane,” he answered, kicking his shoes off. “And that entails hanging out in your bed like we used to. With a bottle of Grey Goose, to boot.”

I raised a brow, looking sceptical. “We hung out in your bed, Carter, not mine, and we never drank Vodka in it.”

“Yeah, well, my bed is in LA, and since we’re here, I gotta improvise. Plus, your brain’s rattling on, so the bottle should help.” Grabbing the bottle, he took another mouthful and proclaimed, “To new traditions.”

Then he set it down, moved to my bed and shoved aside the thin blanket before collapsing into it. I couldn’t stifle my laugh as he groaned with comfort and patted the space beside him, waiting for me.

“Come on,” he welcomed me in. “Come lay in my love nest.”

“Your love nest,” I repeated on a gasp.

“Well, it can be our love nest if you want it to.” He winked, chuckling as I looked down at my feet, fighting that damn blush. “Come on. Do I have to sing like before?”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Come inside my bed,” he sang beautifully, “I promise you won’t… forget it.”

I cringed. “Oh, my God, Carter! Stop!”

“What?”

“Awful! So, so awful!”

He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, I’ll admit.”

“That’s an understatement. I don’t remember why you won any awards now with that mouth of yours.”

“Come here and I’ll remind you how great my mouth can be.”

Fucking hell, that blush again, warming me up to no end.

I shouldn’t be condoning his flirting, but he was in such a great mood, and I was so happy to see him. I didn’t think twice about it.

I climbed into the bed and settled as far away from him as possible.

“Distance won’t keep me away,” he noted, cheekily.

There were more meanings in that than I’d have liked to know.

“So now what?” I asked him, turning on my side to face him.

He turned and faced me too. “Now we talk,” he answered.

“About what?”

“About the first thing that pops up.”

My eyes travelled to his groin before I could stop myself, and then I groaned, “You’re trouble.”

He grinned. “No, you’re just easy.”

“That was smooth.”

“I’ve got more cheap lines, if you want.”

“No, I don’t want.”

He scooted a little closer to me.

I pursed my lips in disapproval. “Not so close, Carter.”

“Well, we gotta whisper,” he replied, stopping when he was a foot away from me. “I can’t whisper from that side of the mattress, Leah.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say.”

He grinned in satisfaction. “So, tell me how awesome I am.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. I could go for an ego boost after our little spat and you wounding me with rejection.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Is that what I did?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, well, you are awesome.”

“A little more than that.”

“You’re the epitome of awesome.”

“And my good looks?”

“Your good looks make you even more awesome.”

He scooted a little closer again. Dropping his voice even lower, he said, “You know, you’re pretty awesome with your good looks too. Imagine what our babies will look like with our gene pool.”

My eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I know, right?”

“Are you seriously talking babies with me?”

“I’m a fast guy.”

“No kidding.”

He scanned my face for a moment, his humour already starting to fade away. “In all seriousness, you do look amazing. I tried to look you up on Facebook about a thousand times just to see what you look like, but I couldn’t find you.”

“I don’t go online.” Unless it’s to stalk you, which has only become a recent hobby. “My world is private.”

“And nobody’s pestered you at all about… us?”

I gave him a strange look. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve torn apart my life to a tee, if you haven’t noticed. There’s not a lot they got, but I was expecting someone to come knocking on your door to harass you about our relationship.”

I shook my head. Nobody had done that. “No, nothing like that happened. You friend-zoned me, remember? We didn’t do things in public that had people thinking we were anything more. Plus, I wasn’t a popular girl. I was practically invisible, and we didn’t hang out in school much. Not many would have known to point somebody in my direction, and Rome’s parents kept their mouths shut, so...”

“When did you move out?”

“When the cameras started showing up at their door. I used to have to slip out early just to avoid them, and then Marlena told me it was probably best to move in with Mel because there would be a lot of chaos, and I didn’t need that thrown in my face when I was trying to…” I paused abruptly.

He gazed at my mouth. “To what?”

“To move on from you.”

He nodded slowly, his tone quiet. “Right.”

Silence.

Those were dark times.

I didn’t even like to reflect on them.

The nights I cried myself to sleep.

Or tossed and turned, remembering us.

Missing us.

Wanting us.

With a sad sigh, he moved on immediately from that. “So, tell me about your school then. Did you graduate?”

Good. A light and easy topic.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Shit, time flew, huh?

I shuddered. “Ugh, maybe to you. I still cringe from all those nights in front of a textbook.”

“Have you had your graduation ceremony yet?”

“No.”

“When is it?”

I chewed on my lip as I studied him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I want to know.”

“June 12 th .”

He nodded. “Okay. Anyone gonna show up?”

“Like?”

“I don’t know, your Aunt and Uncle?”

“No way. I haven’t spoken to them at all since we left, and that’s the way I like it. I’m not even curious to know how they are, either. People like that don’t change.”

He considered that. “Yeah.”

“How about you? Have you spoken to your dad at all?”

Something passed in his face I couldn’t read. He let out a long breath and shook his head. “No, he, uh… he died.”

I froze. “What?”

He shrugged, pensively. “Yeah, heart attack.”

“When?”

“A little over two years ago.”

I was speechless for a moment. I wasn’t sure what to say. I stared closely at his face, but he appeared passive. “I didn’t know,” I whispered to him in my surprise. “If I had…”

“I wrote about it,” he then said, not meeting my eye. “You didn’t read it, so…there you go. Now you know.”

He’d written to me about it?

Shit, I felt like a dog now. No, worse than that, because at least dogs were loyal and caring. Whereas I was just looking after my own heart, choosing not to read his letters out of some selfish obligation to move on.

Meanwhile, he’d probably sought support, and I hadn’t been there.

I hadn’t been there for Carter at all when he probably needed me.

I thought of Ron. He had been a drunk since the moment I saw him, and he growled an awful lot at Carter, but there was… something about Ron that made me feel depressed. He had always appeared like a cold, lost man, drowning his sorrows away, as if trying to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle.

“Hey,” Carter then said, brushing his thumb against my cheek, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Don’t feel bad, Angel. You didn’t know. If I was desperate enough to tell you, I’d have come to your door knocking. I didn’t even come down. The family had him cremated. I was meant to collect the ashes, but… I mean, what am I going to do with an urn full of my dad? At least with his mom, there’s a place for him in her house.”

I frowned. “He was a shit dad. You had every right not to go.”

“He wasn’t always that way,” he muttered. “He used to be great before Mom died. I antagonized him out of anger, and I did it to deflect my own feelings.”

Shit, he’d never opened up to me like this before.

I was completely speechless.

“Death does things to people,” he explained quietly. “It changes them, and I shouldn’t have blamed him for changing. I was just too stubborn, too hurt. It’s why I had my armour on all the time, keeping people like you and the Myers at a distance. Anyway,” he went on, shaking his head as if abolishing whatever thoughts he had in there. “All that happened in the past. No point dwelling.”

“As long you’re okay.”

Something told me he wasn’t, especially when he grabbed the bottle and took another swig. That was the most Carter had ever spoken to me about his feelings. I was absolutely gobsmacked. A part of me wanted to push for more, but I remembered how much that had upset him before in the past.

No, I’d let him decide for himself how much he wanted me in.

He moved on from that, and we talked about lighter things. It felt like we’d fallen back into our old selves, and the awkwardness from before faded into the background. The alcohol helped, immensely. Like, more than immensely.It loosened the screws we’d twisted solidly into place, made removing them less difficult.

Here, in the dark, close to each other’s bodies, we were the old Carter and Leah, laughing and poking fun. I thought I’d see him as a famous dude now, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He had changed in appearance, and he was a little cockier than he’d ever been before, but he was still Carter.

My Carter.

The guy that made my heart beat faster and my skin run slick from nerves.

When he started talking about his tour and all the places he’d seen, I hung on to his every word. He’d become so worldly, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t envious of all the people he’d met, all the countries he’d visited, and all the different variety of food he’d eaten.

“You’ve always wanted to see the world, and I’ve just rubbed my travels in your face,” he then joked, staring at my dreamy expression.

“Someday I will.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before replying, “Maybe you should finish out the tour with me.”

I let out a laugh in disbelief. “Go with you? I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Did he not realize how absurd that was? “Well, because I have a life here.”

“It can’t be put on hold?” he asked, surprisingly serious.

“I’ve got a job—”

“I’ll pay you out.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then I’ll find a job you can do, and you’ll get paid that way.”

I rolled my eyes, dismissing that. “I’m also applying for junior accounting positions at some firms.”

“Give me your resume and I’ll have people distribute it to the best firms.”

Dismissed that again. “Need I remind you, I also have a life here, Carter.”

“You could push your life back a year.”

“No, I can’t.”

He didn’t reply for a couple seconds, and then he said, “You know, Leah, you’ve just given me three reasons why you can’t come with me, and not one of them was your boyfriend.”

Fuck.

Busted.

“That too,” I quickly added.

With a hard voice, he asked, “You’re not really in a relationship, are you? I knew you were lying, but you can’t even be on top of your damn lie. That’s just sad.”

I sighed and turned away from him. Resting on my back, I looked up at the dark ceiling. “It wasn’t entirely a lie.”

“He’s real?”

“Yeah.”

“And why’d you guys break up?”

“Because he found a job very far from here.”

“Why did you break up?” he repeated, not buying my answer.

“Because I wanted him to focus on his job—”

“ Why, Leah?”

I shot him an angry look. “That’s the truth—”

“Stop,” he cut in, harshly. “You think three years has changed the way you lie? I can read you like a fucking book, and you’re telling me bullshit right now. So, what’s the truth then? Was he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Did he cheat on you?”

“No.”

“Was he boring?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know!”

He scoffed, settling himself on his elbows so he could look down at my face. “You don’t know?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know. He was everything I should have wanted.”

“And?”

“And I still didn’t want him.”

He considered that for a moment, and then said quietly, “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

I looked at him, dubiously. “What kind of reason?”

“Maybe you’ve been holding on to me.”

God, he was so abrupt!

I ignored the way my insides warmed. “No, Carter—”

“I hate that I left—”

“You said that already—”

“I hate that you were with him—”

“Stop.”

“You told me you loved me once.”

My body tensed, and my heart picked up.

Was he seriously going there right now?

“Leah,” he pressed tightly, his eyes seeking the truth.

“I know I told you that,” I replied.

“I was your whole world.”

“You were , Carter.”

“And now?”

I exhaled slowly. “And now I’m a grown woman who doesn’t believe in fairy tales.”

That silenced him completely for several moments. I felt bad for saying it, but it was true. My faith had depleted itself, and it was interesting what happens when you stop hoping for things. Your skin thickens as you learn to adapt, and nothing hurts like it once did before.

“It’s never too late,” he then told me, in a low voice. “The past doesn’t have to stay in the past. It can be fixed, Leah.”

“Maybe,” I whispered, doubtfully.

“Not maybe. Every moment you get a chance to own up to your mistakes, to change, to tell someone that even if a lot of time has passed, your feelings haven’t gone.”

It was like listening to someone completely different.

Tentatively, he took my hand with his own. I don’t know why, but I let him. It felt so good feeling him again. He squeezed each finger like he used to before, all the while staring at me with this thoughtful, caring look that left me trapped in him.

“You’re different,” I found myself saying as a lump of emotion settled in my throat.

“I feel different,” he replied softly. “I know what I want.”

Yeah, he was fucking with my head all of a sudden.

Could I seriously open up all those feelings I’d buried away for so long?

The thought terrified me, and yet a thrill shot through my system, reminding me how alive he used to make me feel.

“You know what you want,” I said quietly, more to myself than him.

“Yeah,” he replied on a slow nod.

“And what do you want?”

He let go of my hand and I felt his hand trace up my arm. He left fire behind his touch, and I warmed as his fingers trailed my collarbone. All the while he stared at me as they inched up my throat and to my jawline.

“I want what I’m looking at,” he finally answered in a whisper. “And I’ll fight for her, no matter what. Because it’s not going to change. It’s not going to go away. I want you. Not need, Leah. Want .”

I couldn’t respond.

I was too lost for words at the moment, and indecisive about my emotions.

My body was molten lava beneath his touch. His thumb trailed my bottom lip, and he stared down at my mouth like there was nothing more in this life he wanted than to plant his own against it.

At this point I found it hard to care. I blamed the alcohol, but I knew really it was my soul that was high off his touch. My soul, as always, was malleable in Carter’s hands.

And that brain of mine was mute, mute, mute as can be.

“I want to kiss you,” he said quietly, and I saw that fleeting look of fear in his eyes, like he was treading territory that was on the verge of collapsing beneath his feet.

I trembled, and he waited patiently for my answer. “A little one,” I mouthed out.

“A little one,” he repeated, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Like, a teensy one,” I explained solemnly.

“Okay, I can give you a teensy one.”

“Okay.”

He dipped his head to me slowly, without taking his eyes off mine. His breaths picked up as he brushed his lips against mine. I shut my eyes and tried with all my might not to move. His mouth pressed against mine, lightly at first, and then harder with time.

The teensy kiss wasn’t teensy at all, especially when my hand snaked up his chest and around his neck. I pulled his mouth down harder to mine.

My body warmed even more when his frame came over mine. His hand grabbed a chunk of my hair, directing my face up to his, silently begging me for more. I obliged, only because I was pretty drunk. The vodka had hit me hard. Alcohol was a very bad thing, especially when it came up against childhood lovers and rock stars, and worse if they were one and the same.

All at once the kiss got out of hand. His tongue darted between my lips, and I parted them for him. His other hand roamed the side of my body, grabbing at a breast firmly. He groaned, and I nearly came apart hearing his pleasure.

His taste.

His lips.

His touch.

I was needy and quaking, feeling his cock harden between my legs. My hands ran down his solid back, and he ground against me. I broke from his kiss and moaned, my scalp stinging from the move because he was still gripping my hair. His other hand skirted between my legs, lightly brushing against my centre through my pyjama shorts. Delicious tingles travelled through me, and I gasped against his mouth.

I hadn’t felt like this in so long.

I was flushed and receptive to his every touch. I grasped him to me and let his hands go where they wanted. He broke free from my mouth and kissed down my neck, his teeth scraping against my skin as he sucked.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking down my collarbone. “I’ve been dreaming of this, baby.”

His fingers pushed beneath the elastic band of my shorts, and I opened my eyes, breathlessly looking up at the dark ceiling, trembling at the trigger of tingles shooting up my body. He rubbed me lightly between my slick folds, and I rolled my hips, encouraging him to keep touching me. It felt like I’d never been away from his touch, and I was going to crumble in a matter of moments.

He cursed under his breath and his mouth came back over mine. He lightly bit my bottom lip, and it reminded me of all the times he did that before.

Too fast. My brain suddenly fired at me. Too much .

“No,” I found myself saying, and I hadn’t even authorized the damn word from coming out.

He paused and pushed up to look down at me with his lusty eyes. “What?” he panted out.

“No,” I repeated, and there wasn’t anything else coming out.

“Too fast?”

I didn’t respond.

He withdrew his hand from my shorts and immediately climbed off of me. I glimpsed at his hands as they shook. He balled them into fists and stared up at the ceiling, his chest moving up and down, fast and hard. I’d pushed him over the edge with need too.

I sat up quickly and moved to the edge of the bed.

“Shit,” I heard him mutter.

I was panting too.

My whole body was slick with sweat. I was shaking and confused beyond belief. My vision was a little cloudy. I shut my eyes and tried to calm my beating heart, but the trembles weren’t going away, even long after my pulse had died down.

“I’m so stupid,” I whispered to myself angrily.

“Why?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry,” he then said. “I got carried away.”

“I can’t be here.” I stood up, and my head ached from the sudden move. Fuck, I really did have a lot to drink.

“Leah, don’t go.”

I turned around to face him. He was sitting up, moving slowly to the edge of the bed.

“I see you for a few hours and we’re back to before,” I vented out. “This is unreal. It’s worse than that. It’s shocking!”

“No,” he replied, softly. “It’s that we belong together.”

I let out a fake laugh. “We fucking belong together, Carter? Is that what you just said?”

“It’s exactly what I said.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You don’t believe in that sort of thing—”

“There was a lot I didn’t believe in,” he cut in sharply. “And that’s because I was young and dumb, Leah, and I didn’t know real loss until you and Dad were gone.”

I rested my hands on my hips and looked out the window. This was all wrong. I was meant to be living my life uninterrupted. All the fucking carnage he caused me, I couldn’t forget all that.

“I don’t want more with you, Carter,” I found myself saying, determined to keep whatever remained of my progress intact. “I can’t handle an ‘us’ anymore. I’ve changed from who I used to be too. I’m different now, and I can’t be that person anymore. I refuse to be weak, dependant, afraid. I can’t be any of those things, Carter.” I was growing hysterical, laying it out there like every word lifted more weight off my heart. “I’m not going back there. Not ever .”

“Okay,” he told me softly, like I was some wild animal that needed to be lulled back into its cage. “Okay, Angel. I understand, alright? I’ll respect that. Just…come back to bed. You’ve had a lot to drink, and you’re tired. I won’t overstep my boundaries again. I promise. Just—come here.”

But I didn’t.

I paced for a while, stumbling over my own damn feet, feeling constricted. My heart was beating fast, my core was still throbbing for release—

Damn him!

“Why are you here?” I found himself asking. I stopped to look at him, pleading for an answer. “Why, Carter?”

He stared at me intently, his chest rising and falling at the same pace mine was. “I told you why.”

I shook my head, blinking back the mist in my eyes as I sucked in a few breaths. “I can’t do this—”

“Leah—”

“You fucked me up, Carter.”

He went quiet for a moment, and then he replied in a choked way, “I know, Angel.”

I shook his head. He didn’t know. Not really.

“Come back,” he continued. “Lay down.”

I eyed him carefully, saw the pleading look in his eyes. I didn’t want to go back to bed. I didn’t want to be near him because he was fucking with my head, but…I was also aware I was tipsy drunk, and going anywhere in the state that I was in was unwise.

My shoulders sagged and I walked back to the bed. I collapsed back next to him, and we didn’t speak. The silence returned, and this time it was heavy and uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” he then apologized, contritely.

“You didn’t,” I murmured. “I did that to myself.”

More silence.

Then, “If it makes you feel better, your lips are better than I remember, and I want to thank you for granting me the privilege of kissing them again.”

I was about to laugh at his drivel, until I turned my head and saw how breathless and honest he was.

My heart burst, and tears welled in my eyes.

Jesus Christ, he was actually being serious.

He thought kissing me was a… privilege .

Like it was some grand honour.

“You’re tired,” he then stated.

“Yeah,” I forced out in a tremble.

“Can I hold you? Not kiss you or anything. I just want to hold you.”

Fear tore through me. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“But we’ve never fallen asleep together before, so you can’t really know. Besides, what’s one night hugging you? I won’t see you for a very long time.”

I paused. He had a point there, and I was still weak. I should have said no. Should have, dammit, but I muttered, “Okay.”

The mattress shifted as he got closer to me. He didn’t speak, not once. Not when he wrapped his arm around me, and not when he pulled me into his embrace. My head nestled against his neck as he bathed me with his warmth. It was undeniably comfortable, and I didn’t want to move.

This was our little bubble we’d just formed, and nothing outside of it was going to change anything. We’d forget about this come morning, and all would be fine again.

I reassured myself of this, and it was sad because he was doing what I’d been dreaming of for so long, and it was too late.

He rubbed my back tenderly, and I sighed into his chest.

Slowly my eyes grew heavier, and I fell into a deep sleep in the comfort of his arms.