Chapter 5
Chapter Five
MARLOW
Ugh. I can’t sleep.
I did my usual night routine—shower, skin care, watch Gilmore Girls reruns for background noise until I fell asleep. For about half an hour. Then I woke up.
Now I’ve tossed and turned for the twentieth time. The room is fine. Cool and pleasant. There’s a gentle breeze coming through the window crack, the curtains billowing. The bed is big enough, the cotton sheets soft under my pink baby doll clad body.
And yet I can’t sleep because I’m plagued by thoughts of my new living arrangement, the lack of updates on the leak in our apartment, and Thane.
His mysterious green eyes. His stubbled jaw. His dark expression. His strong body coiled tight with the tension strumming between us.
I can’t stop thinking about him or our afternoon at the ceramic café. He actually painted my emblems—a pink sky and pompoms. I loved that he was willing to take on my challenge and even enjoy himself, if the smile twitching his lips was a telltale sign.
Will he gift me the mug when we go to pick up our pieces or will he keep it for himself?
The thought of Thane with a girlish pink mug sitting in his cupboard that he made because I challenged him makes me grin like a fool.
…And it’s official. Any remnants of sleep have completely evaded me.
I blow out a frustrated breath and glance at the digital clock to my right.
Quarter past twelve. Thankfully, I don’t have cheer practice Monday morning and my classes don’t start until the afternoon.
But still, I like to get nine hours of beauty sleep every night and give myself enough leeway in the morning to get ready.
Michaela’s asleep since she keeps a stricter schedule than me, falling asleep by ten on the dot and waking up bright and early to head over to the ballet studio, so I can’t exactly go to her room to chill.
I can pull out my diary and journal some more—but what else is there to say? I’ve already gushed about Sunday afternoon and drawn a bunch of hearts near Thane’s name. I know. I know. I’m obsessed. I can’t help my feelings.
To top it off, I think Michaela was one-hundred percent right.
Thane is into me.
It can’t be denied any longer.
He wants me. I want him. I just don’t know what happens next.
I sit up in bed with a small yawn. There’s no point dwelling in this room. I might as well get up and walk a bit, stretch my muscles.
Maybe make a lavender tea.
That usually helps me decompress and fall back asleep.
Placing my feet in my pink furry slippers, I step out of the room, quietly closing my door to not make a sound. I don’t want to wake up Michaela or Thane. The old floorboards creak as I quietly walk down the hallway and enter the kitchen.
I made sure to bring over my tea box. Michaela showed me where they store the kettle and once I put water in it, I wait, drumming my fingers against the counter as I peer out the kitchen window.
And surprisingly, I spy a lone figure sitting in the solarium.
Thane.
What’s he doing out there? Why isn’t he asleep?
The kettle whistles and without thinking twice, I pour water into two mugs, add the teabags, and step outside.
His head snaps up, hearing me entering the solarium through the ajar door.
I rock back on the balls of my feet for a second, sheepishly. “Hi.”
He watches me silently like a hawk, eyes burning.
Thane’s sitting sideways on a black leather chaise longue, his legs manspread and his body hunched forward, his joined hands hanging between his legs. He’s only in black boxers, his upper torso bare and a silver chain around his neck.
God, I want that chain dangling in my face.
My cheeks heat up as the thought fires into my brain.
“Hey,” he rasps, swallowing.
Before I entered, his eyes were on the moon. Now I’m the recipient of all his attention. It’s a heady sensation.
“I couldn’t sleep and made myself some tea.” I point one of the mugs towards the kitchen. “I spotted you from there so I…”
Came to see you since you have a gravitational pull on me.
“Am I intruding?” I finally ask, hoping he doesn’t say yes.
He shakes his head before tipping his chin at the two mugs I’m holding. “You going to drink those two, Marlow?”
I shift on my feet. “No. I made one for you.”
Thane’s face gentles and he jerks his head at the other chaise longue in front of him. “Sit.”
Tingles shoot down my spine. In the span of twenty-four hours, I’ve come to learn that not only do I enjoy hearing his deep voice, but I love being commanded in it.
I picture what it would be like if we were to have sex and if he’d talk me through it, boss me around, praise me for being a good listener.
Biting my lip, I sink into the chaise longue opposite him. Our bare knees and toes almost touch. Thane widens his manspread and now my legs are in-between his.
I hand him the mug with the lavender tea. His fingers brush mine. I shiver.
The air in the solarium is warm. But my nipples still pebble.
Of course, it has everything to do with being in the presence of the hottest man to ever exist. The fabric of my pink babydoll is thin.
There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to hide my desire for him, but another one that incites me to lean forward and cross a leg over the other, folding myself in and letting my blonde hair fall over my breasts, granting me a shield of sorts.
Except now my cleavage is more prominent and the hemline of my babydoll has ridden higher, exposing the tops of my thighs.
Thane’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. He looks feral. Like a predator getting ready to pounce on a prey.
My pulse beats fast, sheer animal magnetism brewing in the space between us.
“Why are you up?” he asks, words razor-sharp.
I jolt a little and bring my tea to my lips, blowing on it softly so I don’t burn my tongue on the first sip. Thane watches the movement like he wants to be on the other end of it. Dirty man. I barely hide my smirk. “Couldn’t sleep. You?”
“Couldn’t sleep either.” His fist tightens around the mug. For a moment, I think it’ll snap in half and the hot liquid will spill all over him. “Had a nightmare.”
Oh. I frown. “Do you have those often?”
Thane debates whether he should say anything before relenting. “I dreamed of my parents. The last time I saw them before their car crash.”
Before he became a legal guardian to Michaela.
I almost choke on my sip.
Oh God.
I gaze at him, shocked and place my lavender tea on the small end table wedged between the heads of our chaise longues. It’s still too hot to drink and I don’t want to have this conversation while holding it. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Thane. Do you want to talk about it?”
Again, he appears like he’s debating how much he should share.
Michaela never spoke much about her brother, let alone her Mom and Dad.
I don’t know what her family life was like prior to the accident, and I’ve never dared to pry.
As someone who’s been an orphan my whole life, I know that parents are a sore subject.
Thane sighs. “Not much to say. I’m just wracked with guilt.”
I’m not expecting him to say that. “Why?”
He copies me by depositing his mug on the end table too and clasping his hands together.
If he stretches his fingers, they’ll touch my knees.
I find myself holding my breath, wishing for just that.
Or the opportunity to braid our fingers together.
I wonder how his skin will feel against mine?
Will it be callused from years of playing and coaching football?
Will it make the infinite longing inside my chest grow to an unsurmountable height?
“My last memory with them?” He shakes his head, as if physically trying to rid himself of it.
“We got into a fight. They said I was selfish, rarely visiting home or calling to check-in with them. In a way, they were right. I was twenty-three, away for college, playing football, and living my best life. But I didn’t stop to think that the people in my family needed me too.
I…I was just thinking of myself.” His jaw clenches.
“The way most young people do at that age. And before I knew it, everything changed in the blink of an eye. They got into an accident and died. The shock and grief of it all flipped my entire world around. I wish I’d hugged them one more time—I wish I’d told them how much I loved them one more time.
I felt like a failure of a son, someone who abandoned those who cared for him because I was busy chasing my dreams.”
There’s a lump in my throat. This is all so awful to hear.
“I’m so sorry, Thane.” Unable to help myself, my hands shoot out and grip his.
He jerks at the contact, baffled, but instead of pulling away, he unclasps his hands and just…
let’s me twine ours together. As predicted, his fingers are slightly callused, but his hands are warm and strong.
He sucks in a centering breath and I swear I see a sense of peace flitting in his expression.
“Do you regret not going pro and raising Michaela instead?”
He stares at our hands like they hold every answer in the universe.
“No. Because family is everything. I learned my lesson too late.” His fingers squeeze mine like he needs a tighter grip to hold himself steady.
“I couldn’t be on the road and take care of Michaela.
She was only thirteen then, a kid. She needed stability and a routine.
It was my responsibility to provide it for her.
After my parents’ accident, I lost my zest for football.
My heart wasn’t in it anymore. So quitting and taking care of Michaela was a no-brainer. ”
My heart aches, imagining these two siblings trying to navigate their grief together, and a twenty-three-year-old Thane trying to parent a thirteen-year-old Michaela to the best of his ability.
“You were so young, raising Michaela on your own,” I say. “I couldn’t imagine it being easy.”