Chapter Twenty-Three
Darcy
Aside-sleeper, I see.
She has one leg thrown over a pillow with her hands tucked underneath her face. The way her curls are loose and unkept, sprawled across the pillow, remind me of a lion. Her pink lips, illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the window, are slightly parted. Her breaths even.
Hayden looks peaceful.
Beautiful.
I lightly touch her perfect lips. Soft and supple. Kissable.
Reminding me of that mind-blowing kiss earlier and tempting me to wake her up to try and reenact it.
Feeling more like a creeper than ever before, I yank my hand away from her lips. She stirs this time, and I freeze in place.
Hayden grumbles, then says, “Killjoy?”
“It’s me, Divine Princess. Just getting ready for bed.”
“What time is it?” Her sleepy voice has me going weak for some reason. No, it must just be the after-effect from touching her lips and reliving that kiss over and over all throughout dinner with the governor.
“It’s midnight.” My voice is deep and gruff.
I’ve got to shove away the thought of kissing her.
Especially since I’m going to crawl into this bed with her shortly and we aren’t ready for that.
She needs to know the truth about my past and accept me before I can go there with her.
Because if she rejects me after that, I might die.
“Glad you’re back safely.” She yawns. “How was the meeting?”
“Close your eyes or look away.” Hayden looks at me first—why do people do that?
—but then turns to face the opposite side of the room.
I unbutton my shirt and take it off, tossing it over the sofa chair.
“He invited other state officials, so it went longer than planned, but overall, it was productive.”
“Hmm.” She already sounds like she’s headed for sleep.
I finish tugging my pants off and quickly change into pajama pants and a t-shirt.
“I’m decent.” She turns around to face me again, and I’m awestruck by the gorgeous woman highlighted by the moon.
But I’ll never sleep if there’s light in here.
“Do you mind if I shut the curtains? I have a difficult time sleeping if it’s not pitch black. ”
She nods her head, and I walk around the bed to pull the curtains closed then slide into bed, extra careful not to take down the pillows between us because as much as I want to hold her in my arms, that’s a dangerous game to play while her kiss replays on a loop. It’s a snug fit, but I’ll manage.
“Darcy?”
The way she says my name…
I clench my fists and close my eyes before answering. “Yes?”
She swallows. “What if, for tonight only, we did what real married couples do?”
My eyes fly open as heat pools in my stomach, my body desiring hers but my mind knowing it’s not time. “You want to do what?”
Hayden bolts upward and waves her hand. “No. NO! I didn’t mean—not that. Gosh, no, Killjoy. I just meant… forget it.” She collapses back down to the bed with a grunt, then grabs a pillow and holds it over her face.
I sit down on the side of the bed and take the pillow from her. Curiosity gets the best of me, and while my heart rate works on slowing from my initial perception—which scared me and excited me all at once—I ask her, “What did you mean?”
She groans in embarrassment and wrestles the pillow away from me. She shoves it back over her face, then says something that comes across as mumbles.
“I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Hayden removes the pillow then sighs. “I was wondering if we could cuddle tonight. I think I would sleep better knowing I wasn’t alone in this hotel room. It’s a logical next step when dating your spouse, right?”
“I’m right here. You’re not alone.”
She sighs again. “I know. It’s different to feel you, though.”
I desperately want to throw these pillows between us to high-heaven, but Hayden and I can’t risk slipping up even though we’re married. Not if there is still the question of her leaving after I tell her about my past.
But there’s something else, too.
And it’s embarrassing.
“Yes, it’s a good next step, but, I, um—”
“Forget it,” she interrupts.
“No. It’s just that,” I take a deep breath, preparing for the awkwardness of my next statement. “I’ve never cuddled with anyone before.”
She sits up, and I assume she’s looking at me, but I can’t see anything in this blackness. “Wait, really?”
I let out my breath. “Besides with my mother when I was young, no.”
“Have you ever been romantically involved with another woman at all?”
“I was engaged to Priscilla.” I run my hand through my hair. “We held hands. Kissed on the cheek and small kisses on the lips. But we never cuddled, or kissed deeper, or slept in the same bed.”
Hayden sits in the silence with me, and I continue to reflect over my relationship with Priscilla. I never felt anything toward her. She was a friend. I trusted her. Much like how I feel about Hayden.
Well, felt. There are much stronger emotions coursing through my veins these days.
“I can teach you,” Hayden finally says. Her hand finds mine, and I decide it’s now or never.
A hand has never felt as good as hers feels resting on top of mine.
She’s not going to mock me for my lack of relationship knowledge.
She’s taught me about proper dating, and now she’s going to teach me how to hug her body close so that she feels safe and secure in my arms.
“Okay.” I lay down and turn to face her, but instead I face a wall of pillows. “We may need to move—”
“Yeah, on it,” Hayden says, already in the process of knocking down the thirty-eighth parallel.
This feels right. Hayden is the warm, open South Korea and I’m the dark, closed-off North Korea. But somehow, despite our outward differences, we share the same language and are working on merging our regional dialects.
This is more than passionate kisses. It’s more than dates that end in separate beds. This is falling asleep and waking up next to each other. It’s seeing one another in our most vulnerable forms.
“Okay, lay on your back and put your arm out.”
She lifts her head, and I tuck my arm underneath her. She curls her body against mine and lays a hand on my chest. Can she feel my heart beating? “This is the simplest form of cuddling for you. You get to lay there and let your arm go to sleep.”
The smile that stretches across my face is one of pure, genuine happiness. I could stay like this forever.
I wish I could see her, but the darkness is just what I wanted—pitch black. If I could see her, I would lose myself in her dark brown eyes. I’d kiss her temple and then trail my lips down her high cheekbone. I’d kiss the corner of her mouth before parting her lips with my—
A shiver runs down my body, and I push those thoughts far, far away.
Hayden pulls herself closer to me. “Are you cold?”
My voice is dark as I answer with a coarse no.
She wiggles against me, and I bite my lip to stop from groaning while she replies, “Don’t worry. I’m too tired to try to steal your virtue tonight.”
I risk the question because my head is mush with her body flush against mine. “What if I want to give you my virtue?”
Silence stretches on long enough for me to doubt asking that, but finally, she says in a low whisper, “Darcy, I don’t know if I’m truly what you need. My past… It’s unpleasant.”
I turn to face her, making sure my arm remains under her neck. We’re now face to face, and her minty breath washes over me.
She smells divine…
I shake the thought of pressing my lips to hers. “What do you mean? I know you were an orphan and in the foster care system. I know you spent some time on the streets. I know you’ve tried weed.”
“That’s not everything, Killjoy.” She laughs and pats my chest with the hand that is resting there. I bring my free hand and hold hers on top of my chest. “Trust me. You’d divorce me if you knew the whole story.”
Small red flags begin to rise, but I don’t want to ruin this like I have in the past. Instead of assuming what Hayden needs to say, assigning her motive, and running away, I will hear her out. “Try me.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I squeeze her hand, reminding her that I’m here.
“Not tonight,” she finally says. “We should get some sleep.”
She uncurls from me and rolls to her side of the bed. I want desperately to reach out and pull her back in, but something in her voice—something raw and broken—stops me. I can’t make her say things she isn’t ready to say, but the curiosity is burning me alive.
What do I not know about her? I ran a background check. I know she went to juvie when she was a kid for getting into a physical altercation with another kid. I know she has had issues with anger management in the past.
But doesn’t she realize it’s all in the past?
That we all have dark blemishes? Including me?
“You aren’t your past, Hayden.”
No response. Maybe she’s asleep already, but I doubt she is.
“In fact, it’s because of your history that you are the bright, intelligent, hardworking, sweet, trustworthy, and passionate woman that you are today. Don’t let the rotting corpses of the past steal the liveliness of your present.”
Her shoulders move up and down, and I swear I hear a sniffle, but she still doesn’t respond or make any motion to face me.
I continue to face her and close my eyes. Right as I am drifting off to sleep, I hear through her muffled cries, “But she died because of me.”
Halfway out of consciousness, I tug Hayden to my chest and hold her close as I fall asleep, hoping she can feel how much she means to me.