Chapter 21 #2
With a satisfied sigh, I put on my sleeping clothes and pull my hair into a messy bun. I briefly consider returning to the restaurant to brush my teeth, but the thought of walking alone in the dark and rain gives me pause. Instead, I pop a piece of gum into my mouth and sit on the bed.
It’s cold and clammy inside the van, so I need something to pull over my shirt. As I contemplate which hoodie to wear tonight, I glance at the one I got from Saylor. It desperately needs a wash, leaving Nash’s, which is at least good to wear one more time.
Just as I’m about to put it on, there’s a knock on the door, and I freeze. A wave of anxiety washes over me. What now?
Then Nash’s voice comes from outside, breaking the tension. “Come on, Siren, I’m getting all wet here, and that’s your job.”
Relief washes over me before it’s replaced by annoyance. I open the door to tell him off, saying, “I’m—” But he cuts me off by pushing me backward gently, making his way inside.
He puts down two bags before he turns and closes the door.
As if he lives here, he slips out of his jacket, puts it over the passenger seat’s headrest, and then turns to me with a wide grin.
Looking like a freaking dessert in a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he steps in front of me, his hands coming to my hips, pulling me close before he shakes his head like a dog.
His wet hair sprinkles water droplets everywhere, including my face and shirt, and I laugh, trying to push his chest to get him to step back, but it only makes him pull me closer.
“It’s raining.” He grins down at me, and my heart flutters.
Being this damn charming has to be illegal.
“I gathered that.” I chuckle, unable to feel pissed that he’s here when he’s so close, his minty breath dancing over my face.
His gaze goes down to my white shirt, which is almost see-through on a good day, but right now, the front is wet, and the fabric clings to my peaked nipples.
My breath catches, the weight of his eyes scanning me like a caress.
He squeezes my hips, and after a moment that feels probably way longer than it is, he clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of me.
“I’ve got you something.” He smiles, turning to rummage in one of the bags. Curious, I lean to the left, trying to look around him and see what he is pulling out of the bag, but I just see a fluffy pink monstrosity.
“Here.” He grins, holding it out to me.
“You bought me a pink blanket?” I ask, reaching out to take it, but he folds it open and holds it out again.
“It’s a hoodie blanket,” he corrects with a grin.
“What’s a—” I start, but he’s already pulling it over my head. Pushing my arms through, I’m now enveloped in fuzzy pink fabric that reaches my calves. It’s cozy, warm, oversized, and so soft.
I freaking love it.
“See, I don’t just undress you. It also works the other way around. You look cute as fuck, but most importantly, this should be warmer than my hoodie. Although I still want you to wear it.”
“Nash, I—” I start, unsure what to say.
Nobody besides Nan ever just gave me something, and I’m a little overwhelmed by it. Not to mention that a nagging little voice in my head is telling me not to take shit from the men who treated me like it.
“You’re welcome.” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss my nose.
I want to protest, to tell him to stop being so…
him. But he continues, “There’s more.” He reaches down to pull out two six-packs of our energy drinks.
“Do you have a fridge?” he asks while searching the small space.
I shake my head. “Okay, it’s cold enough in here anyway,” he mutters, putting them on the floor.
“Next, we have entertainment.” He holds out a Switch game to me, and when I take it, I see it’s an action game with all the superheroes, including Spider-Man.
“Who—” I start, but Nash chuckles already.
“North.”
Of course.
“And that’s from Hunter. Do you have any outlets left?” he asks when he pulls a big bundle of white, fluffy-looking fabric out of the other bag.
“What the hell is that?” I ask while Nash has already found my multiple socket outlet and plugs in a cord before he spreads the blanket over my bed.
“This, pretty girl, is a heated blanket. Come on, get in. I want you warm and toasty.”
“Nash, this is all too much. Why are you guys buying me stuff? I don’t need anything. I don’t even want you here. You’re everywhere now, and I-I’m still mad at you.” I’m stuttering, somehow trying to defend my stubbornness because, let’s be honest, I hate myself for pushing them away all the time.
But it’s the safer way. Letting them in will only hurt again.
“We wanted to get you something. You needed something warm in this goddamn cold hole. And for the record, I want to sleep somewhere warm too.” I’m about to open my mouth to protest once more, but he puts a finger over my lips. “Uh-uh. I’m staying. You can still be mad at me while I hold you.”
Who am I kidding? He’s going to stay no matter what I say, and honestly, if we forget about all that’s holding me back, I want him here.
He turns me by my shoulders and slaps my ass over the blanket hoodie, but it’s just a muffled pat. “Get in bed, Siren.”
So I relent and slide in and under the heated blanket, which is already warm and toasty.
Oh my God.
I let out a little moan at how good it feels on my cold-as-fuck feet. Nash gets in beside me and whispers, “I missed that sound.”
I shoot him a glare. “Behave, or I’m gonna kick you out.”
He reaches out and pulls me on top of him, his arms crossed right under my butt, the hood of my hoodie falling down to cover my head. Since we’re nose to nose and the hood is that big, it envelops his face, too, leaving us both in darkness.
“I’m always behaving. I’m such a good boy for you, Siren,” he whispers, and I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Never pushing, although all I can think about is you. Never trying, although all I want is to taste those plush lips again. Never pressuring you, although I’m dying to lick you hard until you come apart on my tongue.
” He moves his hips, and his hard-on presses against my pelvis.
A little gasp comes out of me involuntarily.
He groans before he turns to his side, manhandling me so we’re in a tight embrace.
“I’m here because I love you,” he whispers, pulling the hood off my head and kissing my forehead.
I think my heart just stopped.
Did he?
“Nash—”
“Although I love fucking you just as much,” his soft voice is raspy as he finishes, and a small, huffed laugh is all I can manage as an answer.
Of course. That’s so Nash.
And I love it just as much as I love him.
I’m fucked.
“But I can wait. I can earn myself that privilege. Work for it. Good things are so much more enjoyable if you work hard for them.”