38. Ariel Cambridge
Chapter thirty-eight
Ariel Cambridge
I awake from a fitful sleep to the sound of pounding on my door.
My hand slaps around my nightstand for my phone.
I squint at the bright light burning my retinas and open the app that connects to my security camera.
As it’s loading, I see that it’s five in the morning .
Who is at my house this early? Surely, a murderer wouldn’t knock first.
The video feed loads and displays Brock’s smirking face.
So not a murderer, but a person who inspires it.
I’m tempted to stay in bed and talk to him through the microphone in the camera, but I can yell at him better face to face.
My back tightens as I force myself out of the warm cocoon I created in my bed.
I wince and wrap one of my many blankets around me like a cape.
I started my period yesterday, and I barely slept last night due to cramps and the fun dose of insomnia I’m plagued with at this time of the month.
Brock knocks again. I hope he has a will drafted. Sutton will forgive me. Probably. I stomp to my front door and whip it open. His eyebrows raise.
“Good morning, Duke.”
“Why?” I bite out.
He beams at me. “You love sunrise runs. Remember that time you forced me to go on one? Now I’m here to return the favor.”
“I decided to give up running. My new workout routine is throwing things at people who show up at my door at 5 AM.”
“Is that any way to treat your boyfriend?” he asks in a too-sweet voice.
“When he’s come to annoy me, yes.”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I did want to push your buttons a little.” He holds up his hands when I glare at him. “ But I also came because I thought after you were done being mad, you’d have fun and see that I’m trying.”
My heart softens. The past few days have been fairly busy for both of us.
Brock is attempting to restructure his business to be more sustainable in the long term, and I’ve had a heavier workload ever since Houston resigned .
In all the chaos, Brock has texted throughout the day, gotten lunch with me, and called me before bed each night.
“I’ve seen you trying. You didn’t have to do this.”
He gives me a slightly sheepish grin. “Maybe another reason I came is because I’ve missed you.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. Stupid hormones. I can’t cry over something like this.
“Normally, I would go change and show you up, but I’m not feeling the best.” I shift from one foot to the other.
Concern blankets his features. “Are you sick? Do you have a fever?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s, um, that time of the month.”
“Okay, new plan, you go lay down and I’ll be back in a little while. Can I borrow your house key so you don’t have to get up when I come back?”
I blink. “Sure?”
He steps inside and finds my key ring easily in a bowl on a nearby table.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Go rest. I’ll be back soon.”
“I don’t like surprises,” I say, and he laughs.
“That’s what people who secretly love surprises say. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops.”
He walks out the door with my keys and heads to his car. I frown as he pulls out of the driveway. My body hurts too much to stand here pouting, though, so I shuffle to the couch and collapse onto it.
Less than twenty minutes later–I may have checked my phone a few times–Brock walks through my front door with several different bags and a drink carrier. My eyebrows pull together. I sit up.
“I brought breakfast. I’ve got bagel sandwiches if you’re craving salty, and croissants if you want sweet. Or both.” He sets two paper bags on the table beside the drink carrier. “I was in a rush and forgot to ask whether you liked hot or iced coffee more, so I ordered both. Vanilla, right?”
I nod slowly. He then sets down a small grocery bag. I eye it. “What’s in that bag?”
He chuckles. “It’s for later.”
I lean forward and snag it off the table. He doesn’t try to stop me. Inside is a bag of large marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and different kinds of chocolate bars.
“S’mores?” I question. “I don’t have a firepit. I guess we could put them in the oven.”
They don’t taste as good, but it’s the thought that counts.
“I realized that might be the case halfway to the checkout counter. So I bought you one. It’ll be delivered this afternoon.”
My mouth falls open. “You bought me a firepit? What if I already had one?”
He shrugs. “I’d return it. Hot or iced?” He points at the cups.
“Hot. Do you have a firepit at your house?”
“Yes.” He hands me a warm travel cup.
“Why didn’t you just take me there?”
“I figured you’d be more comfortable at your house right now.” He digs through one of the paper bags and pulls out a chocolate croissant. “You know, you could just enjoy the gift instead of questioning it.”
I sit back against the couch cushions, holding my coffee in my palms.
“I’m not used to this,” I confess. All of my relationships have been too short-lived for any of them to do something like take care of me when I don’t feel well.
He gives me a soft smile. “This is what you deserve. So, get used to it, because I’m planning on taking care of you for a long time.”
My stomach swoops. I take a sip of my coffee and focus on the taste to distract from the urge to cry again.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he hands me the croissant.
He leans over and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “You’re welcome.”
We dig into our food and I start to feel better pretty quickly, though the fatigue hits me hard in spite of the caffeine.
Brock notices my eyes drooping and smiles. “Do you want to lay in my lap and see if you can get some rest?”
“Don’t you need to head to work soon?” I ask, but I’m already taking him up on his offer.
He settles a hand in my hair. I’m reminded of the night he soothed me to sleep during the storms. “Work can wait. You just relax. Is there a show or movie you want to put on while you rest?”
“Hmmm maybe How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days ? Sutton and I used to watch that one together all the time.”
He starts flipping through my streaming services to find it. “Speaking of Sutton, have you talked to her?”
His hand in my hair combined with the exhaustion of not sleeping last night makes my mind fuzzy.
“It’s been a few days. I think we’re supposed to paint our nails this weekend. Why?”
“She hasn’t responded to my messages. I’m sure she has a good reason though.”
I scrunch my nose. “That doesn’t sound like her. Do you want to message her from my phone?” I start to sit up.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll try Shaw again later. You rest.”
His fingertips brush over my forehead, then massage my scalp. I hum. Any concerns I have fade away.
My eyes flutter shut. I don’t so much as see the opening credits before I’m asleep.