Chapter 22 – Jude
Chapter Twenty-Two
JUDE
I’m convinced I must have gotten into some type of accident on my drive to the cabin.
I’m hooked up to a ventilator in a medically induced coma and this is the scenario my brain is giving me before it goes offline for good.
That’s the only explanation that makes sense to me.
Mabel Warren, who as far as I could tell has hated my guts and only tolerates me because of her family, is cuddled against my side after she let me hold her for hours while she cried.
Every single atom in my body wants me to kick my pants off and stay in bed for as long as Mabel will let me but I can’t relax knowing there may be unlocked doors or extra lights on. I promised her I would make sure the cabin was locked up.
There was no way in hell I’d leave Mabel exposed like that.
No matter how little I want to leave this bed.
Continuing to rub small circles on her back, I double check to make sure she’s actually asleep. She’s adorable, her breaths coming in and out in an even rhythm. I feel like it’s safe enough to slowly maneuver my body out from under hers.
It’s a long process but I’d rather chew off my own arm than wake Mabel up after the emotional tsunami she’s been through today. I do finally make it out from under her and I only looked a little ridiculous but there are no witnesses and I’m out of Mabel’s room with my ego intact.
Closing the door quietly, I climb up the stairs and make quick work of checking and verifying all the doors and windows are locked.
Once that is all checked and double checked, I decide it’d be better for me to head to bed as well.
My muscles are sore from the long day of not using my body as much as I usually do.
I’d refused help from anyone while I loaded up my truck with all the food needed for the long weekend, then the long solo drive and catching and holding Mabel tight and close.
I’m not complaining about having her in my arms, I’d wish it was different circumstances but I feel a warmth in my chest when I think that Mabel was able to find comfort with me in a hard moment for her.
I know I was the only one around to offer comfort but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I can only hope she doesn’t hate me more when she wakes up tomorrow. I head back downstairs with my luggage to pick a room.
Picking a room is difficult.
Mabel’s room is very secluded for what it is, a bathroom separating it from any of the other rooms. There are two rooms that are relatively close enough that I believe it’ll be possible to hear if she’s having another incident where she needs help but far enough away that she doesn’t necessarily feel like I’m pushing myself onto her.
Once I settle on a room that’s close but not too close, I make quick work of changing into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt.
The room is nice, just big enough that I don’t feel crowded or like I’m going to run into a wall every time I turn around.
The bed is comfortable, damn, I need to upgrade my mattress at the Bunk House.
Despite the stellar accommodations, I’m having a hell of a time trying to sleep. The haunted look in Mabel’s eyes, the way she clung to me like if she let go there was no way she wouldn’t crumble; I don’t know how to forget that, how to move on from today like it never happened.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I jump at my alarm, smacking my phone to stop the incessant blaring as I stretch my neck out, doing my best to relieve the tension from sleep.
Once I’ve cracked it a few times, I realize I’m not in my room at the Bunk House.
It takes another beat to remember last night and that I don’t need to have my fucking alarms going.
Shit, I hope that they didn’t wake up Mabel.
I snatch my phone off the bedside table, quickly turn my alarms off for the rest of the weekend. Assuming yesterday wasn’t all a fever dream, I hope Mabel isn’t too upset with herself. I’d love it if she’d talk to me about what happened but I’m not dumb enough to push the issue.
I lay in bed just long enough to know I’m not going back to sleep.
Having basically the same routine for the past ten years makes it so my body is up and ready before the crack of dawn, always.
I let out a sigh of slight annoyance but I reason with myself that this will give me a chance to shower before Mabel wakes up.
Maybe make her some breakfast as a peace offering….
It’s decided.
It will probably end in disaster but nobody ever said I was smart.
Especially when it comes to Mabel Warren.
Hell, I’m a downright idiot nowadays when it comes to her.
Being attracted to Mabel as a teen and into my twenties is nothing compared to how I feel about her now.
Especially since I’ve spent legitimate time with her, gotten to laugh with her and seen more of her than the scowl she’d shoot whenever we were in the same room.
Infatuation has evolved into something that I don’t know if I’m ready to put into words, even to myself. This weekend just became a lot more difficult.