15. Chapter Twelve #2
“You’re welcome to stay the night in one of the guest rooms,” Julian offers, and I know it’s for my benefit.
He and Mason clearly aren’t each other’s biggest fans.
I don’t blame Julian for his distrust of Mason.
If the roles were reversed, I probably wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue as well.
There’s no graceful way to put the story—no way to soften the blows that were dealt, but I know I’ll answer any questions Julian has.
Without any hesitation, they’re both quick to agree with staying the night, clearly as tired as we are, if not more from traveling. Julian tries to show them to a room, but of course, Willa chooses the room I’ve been staying in.
I mumble a quick lie about using the closet space, which makes perfect sense to my sister.
When we say goodnight, my sister’s hug surprises me. She holds me tightly and longer than usual. “I like him,” she says for my ears only. “Hold on to him, all right?”
Not knowing what to say to that, I nod. “See you in the morning.”
She watches me retreat with Julian and I realize quickly that I have to go to sleep. . .in his room. Just the two of us—alone. I mean, I’m supposed to sleep in the same room as my boyfriend, right?
This is normal. Totally normal.
My heart pounds hard in my chest as he closes the door behind us and for a solid minute, we stand there, staring at each other.
I let out an awkward laugh. “We really thought this through, didn’t we?”
He lets out a weak laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking or trying to. . .” He grimaces over his words, and I shake my head, pressing my hand against his arm.
“I know and it’s fine,” I rush to say. When he looks down at where I’m touching him, I quickly move it away and grab the hem of my sweater instead. “I wasn’t thinking either,” I state and side-eye his bed before peering back at him. “It’s just sleep, right? ”
He dips his chin. “Just sleep.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek and then frown. “My toothbrush is in my room, and so are my clothes.”
He jerks his head toward the bathroom. “I have a spare toothbrush you can use, and you can sleep in one of my shirts.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but when he goes into his closet, I stay rooted to the floor.
“Isn’t that weird?”
“What is?” he calls out as I hear the sound of a drawer opening.
“Me, uh, wearing one of your shirts.”
“No,” he says simply, as if it’s a fact. A few moments later he emerges, holding out a light blue T-shirt, and asks, “Do you want sweatpants? They might be a little big on you, but. . .”
I shake my head, taking the shirt. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
He grins and motions me toward the bathroom. “Ladies first.”
“How chivalrous.”
I try to ignore the chill pressing down my spine at the sound of his laughter as I close the door behind me.
I take a moment to collect my thoughts and contemplate every decision I’ve made since getting evicted from my apartment.
I’m about to spend the night with him. This is so different from sleeping in the bedroom across the hall.
At least then I could cope because there was a wall between us.
Oh god, what if I snore? I’ve never been told that I do, but with my luck, tonight could be the night that I start.
With my stomach rolling with unease, I quickly change into his shirt, enjoying the way I look and feel in it a little too much.
The fabric is soft as it brushes against my mid-thighs.
I let out a slow breath, attempting to ease my nerves.
Gathering my senses, I find a new pack of toothbrushes under the sink.
I also find makeup-removing wipes and a facial cleanser.
I don’t know why the sight of it causes my stomach to drop, but it does and harder than it should because I don’t even want him like that. Do I?
It’s clear he’s experienced and a professional womanizer, but who can blame him? He’s a walking daydream. Most men know when they’re gorgeous.
The thought of him with another woman in the bed I’m about to share with him has irritation cranking through me as I wash my face. I moisturize, noting my poor cheeks are raw from my aggressive scrubbing.
After brushing my teeth, I clean out the sink before emerging back into the bedroom. My eyes fall to where he rests an elbow on the bed, as if he couldn’t stand to stay upright. His brows are furrowed as he reads something on his phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask, my voice sounding loud as it breaks the silence.
His head darts up and his face still holds a hint of frustration, even as he nods.
“Everything’s grand.” My brow lifts in disbelief and the corner of his mouth twitches before he adds, “It’s just stuff about the foundation.
My head of directors is persistently reminding me of everything I need to do.
She thinks it’s part of her job to annoy me. ”
He doesn’t seem entirely put off by this. If anything, a coat of amusement crosses his features. That’s probably the issue, but I don’t mention it.
“A woman is the head of directors on your foundation?”
He dips his chin. “We had a placement together when I was eleven. She was sixteen at the time. When you’ve experienced what we’ve experienced together, it’s hard to ever stop looking out for each other.
After I got out and realized what I wanted to do, I tried to find as many people as I could.
I built my team around those who understand what the system can be like.
I knew I needed survivors, not businessmen. ”
Survivors . The way he says it is like a gut punch. My mind reels at all the possible things he’s gone through, and my initial instinct is to wrap myself around him, but acknowledging the weirdness of that urge, I decide against it.
“It’s going to do so many great things,” I tell him.
He gives me a reluctant look as he stands, setting his phone on the nightstand. “I hope so.”
“It will.”
He hums, looking more relaxed now. “So optimistic.”
Then the situation we’re in seems to come back to us. We go back to the tense silence that neither of us knows how to fill. Then, his eyes roll down my body slowly until they reach my bare legs and pause. I watch as his throat bobs with a smile. “I missed those.”
And now the tension is gone.
I let out a breathy laugh. “You can’t just say something like that.”
His head tilts as he inches closer. “Why not?”
“Because it’s flirting.” I sidestep him and he takes the place I was standing in the bathroom doorway. I hesitate before adding, “There should be a guideline or. . .rules for this. I think it’s important we know each other’s boundaries.”
He thinks this over with a few nods. “We can do that.”
“You’re okay with that?” I ask, eyes narrowing.
A small smile cracks on his face. “The last thing I want is to make you feel is uncomfortable.”
He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him before I can respond.
I stare at the door for a few moments before I crawl into his bed.
My brain taunts me with treacherous thoughts of all the women he’s had in it.
It has no reason to have my skin prickling with irritation and my stomach twisting in a knot.
I stare at the mound of pillows before deciding to build a wall in the center of the bed. Only once I’m satisfied with my work do I settle into my space. I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the ceiling when the door opens and Julian’s presence sucks all the oxygen from my lungs.
He’s shirtless. I try to peel my eyes away from his incredibly toned abdomen, but I can’t seem to do it. I missed those .
My eyes drop to where his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips.
I hear a strange sound before I realize it comes from the back of my throat. I immediately divert my attention back to the ceiling. I wish I could call Maisie for a quick pep talk. Deep breaths, Andrea, you can do this.
His feet softly pad across the dark wood floors before coming to a stop. I close my eyes and attempt to steady my breathing. I’d rather he thinks I’m sleeping so that I don’t have to explain my sister and Mason.
The plan ends up being a complete failure.
“Am I so repulsive that you can’t even look at me?” he asks, his voice timber, though there’s a hint of something else there too.
I squint open one eye, holding the covers to my chin. “Truly stomach-churning.”
He breathes out a laugh as he throws back the covers on his side, but then hesitates. “I can sleep on the floor if you prefer.”
I scoff like he’s being ridiculous even though I’m freaking the fuck out and don’t think that’s a terrible idea. That’s not at all what comes out of my mouth, though. “Just lay down, Julian,” I tell him, doing my best to only focus on his eyes. “And stay on your side. ”
The corners of his mouth tilt upward before he crawls into bed.
My entire body tenses as my eyes catch onto the jagged pink scars on his skin.
The sight of them puts a lump in my throat.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I rapidly blink them away before he notices and I somehow make things more weird than they already are.
Once he settles into the space next to me, he turns off the lamp, blanketing the room into a darkness lit only by the city lights cascading through the windows.
My body eases as time stretches between us and I let out a breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”
I can no longer see his face behind the stack of pillows, but hear him ask, “Used to what?” His voice is quiet as if the darkness demands it, so I lower mine too.
“Being so high up.” I can’t hear the world up here.
“It takes some getting used to. I kept getting motion sickness when I first moved in.”
I snort. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “It got so bad that I almost moved out.”
“What made you stay?”
He’s silent for a moment. “It’s quiet up here.”
“Did I ruin that for you?” I ask, only half-joking.
There’s a shuffle of covers as he turns and moves the pillow that was blocking my face from view. His eyebrows are drawn together in thought. “No,” he states easily. “I don’t think you could ruin anything, Andrea.”
My heart flips in my chest. What he just said and the way my name leaves his lips does funny things to me—unwelcome things. To rid myself of these forbidden feelings, I say, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mason.”
He scratches his chin, propping himself onto his elbow. “It was a bit of a curve ball I’ll admit. Why didn’t you mention it?”
I shrug, but I know why. “I was embarrassed.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. He’s a doofus.”
Laughter bursts out of me. It’s loud enough that I slap a hand over my mouth. This makes him smile. “I think you’ve entered my psyche.”
“Yeah? What else is going on in there?”
I wonder what he’s really asking me. Do you still have feelings for him?
Do we hate or love your sister? I can understand his confusion because some days I don’t even know where my head is at with my sister.
The thought of going back to that town sends me through a spiral of emotions.
“When I first woke up after my coma, Mason and I were still together. And the truth is, I don’t know that I would have gotten through a lot of the hard parts without him.
” It’s difficult for me to look him in the eyes, so I don’t.
Instead, I stare down at my fingers as I pick the skin around my nails.
“It wasn’t until I caught him and my sister together that I learned the truth.
They thought I was at physical therapy.” I laugh, wincing. “We were all very surprised.”
He blows out a breath. “That’s awful. I’m sorry they did that to you. I knew I should’ve punched him.”
My head falls to the side, my eyes meeting his again as I laugh. “He does have a pretty punchable face, right?”
He dips his chin. “He does.”
I press my lips together in a poor attempt to rein in my smile. “Glad it’s not just me. I am pretty biased after all.” Another thought occurs to me, chasing me down a hill like a boulder and I gasp, flinging myself upright. “Oh my god!”
He sits up quickly, watching me closely with a confused look. “What is it?”
“Carter,” I state as an explanation.
My wild eyes must tell him enough because he immediately relaxes. “I’ll leave that up to you. We can tell him or not tell him.”
I bite my thumbnail, thinking. “He’s always been terrible at keeping secrets. When we were kids, I woke up in the middle of the night to eat a piece of my birthday cake before my party the next day. Not a few hours after I told Carter, my dad found out. The little twerp tattled on me to my father.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “How old were you?”
I huff. “I was seventeen.” Julian throws his head back in laughter and I give him a stern look. “It’s not funny.”
“Sorry,” he says, but he’s still laughing so I don’t think that he is.
I pick up a pillow and hit him with it, unable to stop myself from cracking a smile. After it smacks him on the side of his face, he snatches it and cradles it under his head as he lays back down. Great, now we only have half a wall.
“So, we lie?” I ask, making sure we’re on the same page and wanting to make sure he’s okay with lying to his best friend.
He nods. “It’ll make us even for the whole ‘surprise, I got you a roommate’ thing.”
That makes total sense to me. I lay back down, and we both turn to face the ceiling.
If only I could wander into his mind and hear what he’s thinking right now.
We’re in a bed— his bed. Together. Where we’ll be sleeping for the next several hours.
Together . He’s not wearing a shirt. I’m not wearing pants .
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whisper.
He laughs softly. “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”