22. Dex
Chapter 22
For the tenth time, I check my appearance in the full-length mirror in Declan’s guest bedroom. I always feel strange wearing a dress, but a shirt, jeans, and sneakers isn’t acceptable attire for a wedding. The cornflower-blue, knee-length fitted dress goes well with my red hair and complexion, so all in all, I haven’t scrubbed up too badly.
I apply a little more lipstick and pat my lips on a folded tissue. After slipping my feet into four-inch stilettos—I need height from somewhere—I pick up the silver clutch bag and take out my cell phone. There’s a text from Elva letting me know that Mom is okay, and Milo is missing me. I smile and tap out a quick reply.
As I drop my cell back into the purse, Nate appears behind me. He slips his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. Dear God, the man rocks a tux better than anyone I’ve ever seen, and if we had time, I’d peel it off and help myself to a piece of what I crave.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, nibbling on my earlobe.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that, otherwise we’re not going to make this wedding, and Declan will spend a lifetime making me pay.”
I turn around in his arms and brush imaginary dust from his suit jacket. “You’re damn handsome, Nate O’Reilly.”
“And you’re sexy as fuck.” He bends to kiss me.
I turn my head. “I’ve just put lipstick on.”
“So? You’ve got more, haven’t you?” His mouth takes mine in a kiss that leaves me breathless. When he draws back, he’s wearing more of my lipstick than I am. I giggle and grab a tissue from my purse to wipe it away.
“That’s better.”
I reapply the lipstick, then tuck my hand inside Nate’s elbow.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Are you?”
He shrugs. “You’re making this trip a whole lot more bearable, Titch.”
I twist my lips to one side. “I don’t get it, Nate.”
“Get what?”
“Why you hate coming here so much. Your brothers clearly adore you, and you’re surrounded by so much warmth and love. That shit’s addictive, yet you push it away.”
His jaw tightens, and his eyes darken with a dangerous glint in their depths. He yanks his arm away. “Don’t pull at that thread, Titch. Not if you know what’s good for you.”
Okay, so maybe my timing wasn’t the best but… are you freaking kidding me? I plant my hands on my hips, angling my chin up. “What’s good for me? Is that a threat?”
A muscle judders in his cheek, and I’m sure he’s grinding his teeth. “I’m not talking about this, so either drop it and we can enjoy the day, or carry on and seriously piss me off. Your choice.”
He slowly turns away and heads for the door, leaving me standing there working my jaw in a tight circle as anger builds inside me. “Stop right there, Nate O’Reilly, or so help me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He freezes in place, one foot in front of the other, mid-step. I move in front of him, my neck straining as I look up at him. Goddammit, what I wouldn’t give for a few more inches so I can have this conversation eye-to-eye.
“I will let this drop, not because you ordered me to, but because I can see you’re a hot mess, and I want you to remember this day as a happy one, not one filled with suppressed rage. I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I’ll tell you one thing: the day will come when whatever issues you have with your brothers is going to erupt. And if you don’t take control of that shit, it’ll blow up in your face.”
This time, I’m the one who leaves him behind. I wrench open the door, storm down the hallway and into the open-plan living area. Ciaran and Millie have arrived and are sitting on the sofa. Millie is cradling Aimee who looks absolutely adorable in a soft pink dress, matching shoes, and a pink bow in her dark hair. Their eyes widen when met with a furious redhead stomping around. Ciaran glances over my shoulder to where I guess Nate is standing, then looks back at me.
“Everything okay?” he asks, concern drawing his eyebrows together.
“Fine,” I spit. “Except your brother is a dickhead.”
Millie smothers a grin while Ciaran laughs. “Well, we know that. And now you’ve caught on, you’re definitely part of the family.”
His jokey demeanor strips the tension right out of the room. My shoulders relax back in place, and as I join in with the laughter, I sense Nate behind me, his eyes boring into the back of my head. Deciding to ignore him, I turn to Millie, who I sat beside at dinner last night. We developed an immediate rapport, and I hope we’ll become friends, albeit long-distance ones. Still, that’s what social media is for.
“I love your dress, Millie,” I say. “It really suits your coloring. And Aimee looks so cute.”
“Thank you,” she says with a smile, adding, “You don’t think it makes my skin appear too pale?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. You’ll steal the limelight from Indie at this rate. Talking of which, where is the blushing bride?”
“She stayed at Alana and Paul’s last night.”
“Oh, of course. She did say that.”
“Declan okay?” Nate finally speaks, but when I look around at him, he refuses to meet my gaze.
Well, screw him. He can spend the rest of the day in a snit for all I care.
Except I do care.
I just wish he’d talk to me. We had such a breakthrough yesterday, and I’m finally beginning to feel secure, not constantly waiting for him to end things between us. Maybe I need to wait until he has a couple of drinks inside him. A little alcohol might make him more pliable. Or I could ask him again after sex. Nate is always more agreeable when his balls are empty.
“No, he’s panicking,” Ciaran says.
“I’ll go and see if he needs me to hold his hair back while he pukes.” Nate disappears upstairs to the master suite, leaving the three of us alone.
“Jesus, did you refuse to put out or something last night?” Ciaran asks, earning a sharp dig in the ribs from Millie’s elbow.
I giggle, not in the slightest bit offended at his query. “No, but I will be tonight if he carries on behaving like a child.”
Ciaran laughs. “Y’know, Dex, you’re exactly what my brother needs.”
We chat for a few minutes, and I even manage to sneak in a quick cuddle with Aimee before Declan and Nate join us. Declan’s face has a green tinge to it, and I can’t help but feel sorry for him. Although the wedding will be a small, intimate affair, it can’t be easy to stand up in front of everyone and try to remember what to say and where to stand. If it were me, I’d worry about forgetting my lines, snagging a heel in my dress, or getting sick on the pastor.
“Oh, Declan, you don’t look at all well. Shall I get you something to settle your stomach?” Millie asks.
“Mightn’t be a bad idea,” Nate says. “If he vomits on me, I’ll kill him.” He says the latter with the hint of a smile as his eyes search for me.
Whatever he and Declan spoke about while upstairs, it’s lifted Nate’s mood. My annoyance withers under his warm gaze, and I go over to him as Declan follows Millie into the kitchen.
“Truce?” I say.
He catches my hand and lifts it to his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Me, too. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“Car’s here,” Ciaran says. “And I’ve checked in with Callum. He and Laurella are on their way to the church.”
“Oh, God,” Declan mutters and rubs his stomach.
“Fuck’s sake,” Nate says. “You’ve been living together for almost four years.”
“Yeah, but marriage.” The green tinge is back.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Ciaran takes hold of Declan’s arm and propels him toward the foyer. Nate and I follow, along with Millie. By the time we reach the church, Declan has calmed down.
Paul, his best man, meets us outside, and he claps Declan on the back. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Declan mumbles before heading inside.
“Want me to have a bucket on standby?” Callum calls after him, receiving a cutting glare from Laurella for his trouble.
“Thank Christ I’m not the best man,” Nate says, taking hold of my hand.
“Why aren’t you? Or Ciaran, or Callum?”
“Imagine having to choose and then explain to the ones who missed out? Nah, we all agreed weeks ago that it should be Paul. Easier all round.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah, I guess. At least I won’t have that problem. Elva will definitely be my maid of honor.”
Nate’s gaze cuts to mine. “I don’t remember asking, Titch.”
Oh shit!
Heat floods my face, which is damn annoying. I’m not a blusher, yet since hooking up with Nate, the blood rush to my cheeks is turning into a regular occurrence. “I-I didn’t mean that. I meant?—”
Nate gives me a nudge. “Chill. I’m teasing you.”
“Oh.” I glower at him. “I wasn’t talking about marrying you, anyway.”
“That’s good because I don’t plan to ever get married.”
A wave of disappointment crashes over me. My stomach clenches, but I keep my face straight. It isn’t that I want to marry Nate or anything, but for him to one day call me his girlfriend, and the next day announce we don’t have a future is a bitter pill to swallow.
“Just as well. I’d pity the poor girl.”
Nate pinches my side. Despite a despondent feeling weighing me down, I giggle.
“Who’s that?” I ask as we take our seats, jutting my chin at a bearded, tattooed giant chatting to Ciaran.
“Draven,” Nate replies. “Ciaran’s best friend and business partner. They run a private detective firm together. Both former NYPD.”
“Your brother was a cop?”
Nate nods, and I furrow my brow. It’s yet one more thing he hasn’t mentioned. An interesting career choice considering the family is loaded, but he must have had his reasons. I bet he was a great cop. He has that way about him, kind, yet a steely look in his eye that says, “Don’t fuck with me.”
Moments later, the wedding march rings out. When Indie begins her solo walk down the aisle, Nate lets out a huge yawn. Despite his bad manners and my dark mood, I suppress a smile. Nate is his own man, and that goes a long way in my book. Still, I flash a glare his way, which he studiously ignores. His eyes do follow Indie, though, as she passes by us, and there’s the smallest curve to his lips.
It isn’t a long ceremony, and in no time at all, Indie and Declan are walking back up the aisle, their faces shining as they look at each other the way my mom and dad used to with blind adoration.
As the congregation follows the happy couple outside, Nate slings an arm over my shoulders and whispers, “Come on, Titch. Let’s get drunk.”
Once the wedding breakfast and the speeches are out of the way, Nate leads me onto the dance floor, folds me into his arms, and rests his chin on top of my head. I nuzzle into his chest, breathing him in. He smells delicious, of fresh body wash and woodsy cologne. I burrow my hands beneath his jacket, the soft cotton of his shirt warmed by his skin.
“You survived,” I say.
“Only just.” I feel his grin.
“It was a lovely wedding.”
He leans back and coaxes my chin up. “What I said before, Titch, about marriage. I meant every word. I’m not the marrying type, but that doesn’t mean I don’t value what we have. I wouldn’t have made it through the last forty-eight hours without you. I might not be the guy to put a ring on it, but you are deeper inside my head than any woman I’ve ever known.” He hitches up a shoulder. “I just thought it was important to tell you where my head’s at.”
I love you.
Fuck, there it is again. It has to be infatuation. I can’t possibly be in love with a guy I’ve only known for a few weeks. I like him a whole lot, but insta-love only happens in romance novels and soppy movies.
“Dex?”
I blink a couple times. “Sorry, I kinda disappeared there for a moment.”
He gives me a crooked grin. “Where’d you go?”
I press a hand to his face. “It doesn’t matter. Life is short, Nate. You and I know that better than most. I try not to focus too much on the future but live for the here and now.” I laugh. “And to anyone over thirty, that probably sounds crazy coming from a twenty-two-year-old, but you get where I’m coming from.”
The softness in his eyes is my undoing. I might have said all of that, and while it’s true, I can’t help dreaming of what ifs that will never come true.
“I do. I guess I wanted to be honest, especially after the whole girlfriend and boyfriend conversation yesterday.”
An ache moves down my throat, settling in my chest. “And you have been. Now, show me your moves.”
“Oh, my God,” Indie laments, collapsing onto the sofa. She kicks off her high heels and rests her feet on Declan’s lap. “Husband, rub my feet.”
Nate snorts. “You’re fucked, bro. Pussy whipped until you shuffle off this mortal coil.”
Warmth fills my insides. The more time that passes, the more Nate slowly drops his cold, distant attitude toward his brothers.
Determined to keep the atmosphere light, I let my shoes fall to the floor and stick my feet in Nate’s lap, making sure to graze his cock with my heel. “Boyfriend, rub my feet.”
Declan throws back his head and laughs. “No, bro. I think you’re the one who’s fucked.”
Nate gives me a look that says I’m in so much trouble, but that doesn’t stop him kneading at my soles with his thumbs.
My head rocks back, and I groan. “God, that feels good. You’d make a good masseuse. And with your looks, you might even pull in a little extra on the side.”
Indie joins in with Declan’s laughter. “Dex, you are priceless.”
“She’s fucking dead,” Nate grumbles.
“We should get home,” Millie says, nudging Ciaran, who groans.
“Why don’t you stay the night?” Declan suggests. “I know you’re only thirty minutes away, but you might as well. There’s plenty of room.”
“Are you sure?” Millie asks.
“He’s sure,” Ciaran says, clambering to his feet. “Besides, the baby’s asleep.” He peers into the portable crib, his expression filled with awe as he strokes a hand over her head. Picking it up, he cocks his head. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
Indie gets to her feet. “We should go, too, Declan. Early start in the morning.”
“When are you guys going on honeymoon again?” Nate asks.
“Not until after the summer season is over.” Indie rolls her eyes. “The joys of your beloved running a hotel empire. It’s a good thing we’re only newlyweds and not newly relationshipers.” She giggles. “I think I just made up a word.”
Declan rises from the sofa and sweeps Indie into his arms.
She squeals. “What are you doing, you crazy man?”
“We might not be going on honeymoon for a few months, but that doesn’t mean I can’t carry you over the threshold.”
He takes off upstairs; Indie’s giggles fading as their bedroom door shuts.
“Night, you guys,” Ciaran says. “See you in the morning.”
“Think I might turn in, too.” I yawn, stretching my arms overhead. As soon as Ciaran and Millie are out of sight, Nate pounces, burying his face in my cleavage.
“I fucking love your tits, Titch.”
I shove him off me, then press a hand over my heart. “My gosh, you’re such a smooth talker.”
He rolls his eyes, stands, and helps me to my feet. Once we’re inside the bedroom, he kicks the door shut and falls backward onto the bed. He loosens his laces and kicks his shoes across the room, where they thud against the wall beneath the window.
“What a fucking day. I thought sixteen-hour shoots were torturous. Turns out weddings trump that shit all day long.”
I collapse next to him. “I love your family.”
Nate grunts then rolls onto his side and gets to his feet. He wanders over to the dresser and takes a box out of the top drawer. An oblong, black box tied with a pink bow. He tosses it on the bed.
“I got us a present.”
I sit up and cross my legs. “You got us a present?” I say with a frown. “Why? When?”
Nate smirks. “It’s definitely for us. Now, quit your yapping and open it.”
I tug on the ribbon, peeling it away from the box. Lifting the lid, I peer inside. It takes me a millisecond to figure out what Nate has gotten us both. My eyes widen.
“You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly. I can’t wait to use this on you. I bet you’ll come like a fucking freight train.”
Nate removes the vibrator from its satin casing and presses on the non-business end. It buzzes loudly.
I grab it out of his hands and quickly turn it off. “Stop it. Someone might hear.”
Nate shrugs and snatches it back. “No, they won’t. And even if they do, I’ll tell them it’s your toothbrush…and you’re a thorough brusher.” He laughs.
I do not.
“You are not using that on me here.” Back in L.A.? Hell yeah. But with his family in the same apartment? Nope. No. Definitely not. There’s a baby just down the hall.
Nate tosses it on the bed and grabs hold of my ankles to part my legs. Burrowing beneath my dress, he presses a kiss through my underwear to my clit. My body jerks with pleasure.
“Have you used one before?”
“No.”
He eases aside my panties and gives me another kiss, then slips his tongue inside me. I groan loudly, then clamp a hand over my mouth. I can hardly call him out for switching on Victor the Vibrator if I’m going to make such a racket.
“Aren’t you curious?”
I rise up on my elbows. My stomach clenches deliciously at the sight of Nate between my legs. “Yes, I’m curious, but let’s wait until we get home.”
“I’m curious, too. I’m wondering how much I can torture you with it.” He picks Victor up once more. He doesn’t turn it on, but he does roll the end over my clit.
My legs writhe beneath me.
“A lot, I’m guessing,” I gasp.
“Let’s see.”
He presses the button, and the buzzing noise starts up again, this time with the tip of the fake penis against my clit. Oh, the sensation… so intense… so fucking amazing. I’m aware it’s weird that I’ve reached the age of twenty-two and haven’t ever used a vibrator before, but with Mom and everything, before Nate, sexual pleasure hadn’t been on the agenda.
I arch my back, moans of pleasure spilling from my lips, with all thoughts of denying him this… denying me this experience… gone.
“Let’s get you out of this dress,” Nate says.
He leaves the vibrator buzzing beside me and strips off my clothes, then undresses himself, tossing our clothes on the floor. He picks up the vibrator once more and trails it over my stomach. It tickles, and I giggle. He moves north, presses the tip to my nipple, and I don’t giggle this time.
No, I shout, “Fuck me!”
Nate bursts out laughing. “I guess we can stop worrying about being overheard now. Worst is over.”
My cheeks burn. I have no idea how I’m going to face Nate’s family in the morning. Nate, though, clearly doesn’t care because he sticks to his word. He tortures me. By the time he’s finished with Victor, I can barely recite my own name. I’ve come so many times, I’m completely wrung out, and wet? God, so wet that when Nate pushes inside me, he almost slips straight out.
I clench my core, anchoring him deep within. He groans.
“Shit, Titch, if you’re gonna clamp down on my dick so hard, I need to use that on you more often.”
I tilt my hips. “Shut up and fuck me, Nate.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he says, grinning against my mouth.
Then he kisses me deep, hard, using lots of tongue. I love the battery-operated help, but nothing matches the feel of Nate moving inside me. I clutch him tightly to me, feeling the muscles of his back undulate as he thrusts into me over and over again, his dirty mouth whispering filthy words in my ear with every assault of his hips.
My body builds toward climax once more. Holy fuck. How is this even possible? I peak, then crash, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me. Hot tears gather behind my closed eyes, the emotion of the moment almost tipping me over the edge. I don’t let them fall, though. I’m not sure enough in my standing with Nate to cry in front of him, especially when the tears are brought about by a sexual experience I’m not sure he can top.
I open my eyes as he comes.
His eyes are clamped shut, and a faint sheen of perspiration dampens his forehead as his lips part and his face takes on this almost ethereal euphoria. He gives a throaty groan and buries his face in my neck.
A few seconds later, he pulls out of me and flops onto his back, one hand resting on his abdomen as he catches his breath. “You kill me, Titch, but fuck if I can’t get enough.”
I lean up on my elbow. “Ditto.”
He reaches for the vibrator and waves it in front of my face. “You got over your embarrassment pretty damn quick.”
I poke him in the ribs. “Cocky bastard.”
“You love it.”
I love you.
Not again. My brain needs to take a goddamn vacation.
Time for a change of subject.
I snuggle into his side with my cheek resting on his shoulder. “I enjoyed today. Your family are wonderful.”
“Yeah.”
I twist my head so I can look at him. “I know you were annoyed with me this morning for bringing it up again, but I’ve always been a tenacious bitch. Please tell me why you hate coming here so much.”
A muscle ticks in Nate’s cheek, and his eyes stay firmly fixed on the ceiling.
“Drop it, Dex.”
I press a hand to his chest. “Please, Nate. I?—”
“I said drop it, and I meant it.”
“I only want to help.”
“You can help by shutting the fuck up.” He pushes my hand away and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
I rest my palm on his back, feeling the tension radiating off him, his muscles bunching beneath my hand. “Don’t shut me out.”
He turns to me, and what I see in his eyes scares me. He scares me. “I’m warning you, Dex. Either stop pushing this subject, or it’s over between us. I want a girlfriend, not a pushy bitch who pokes her nose into things that don’t concern her.”
I widen my eyes, then scramble to my feet, pulling the sheet around my nakedness. How have we gone from such mind-blowing sex to talk of us splitting up? “You don’t mean that.”
He stands, too, his spent dick hanging between his legs. “What’s it to you, anyway? Why do you care so fucking much?”
“Because I care about you,” I say quietly. “And an idiot can see you’re carrying the world on your shoulders, but I don’t understand why. If your family were horrible or they talked down to you, were mean and nasty, I’d get it. But they’re not. They’re a family to be proud of, and you should be proud to be part of it.”
Nate’s eyes flash with such venom, I recoil. He drags on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and shoves his feet into his sneakers. “You haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about. You know what? Go fuck yourself, Dex.”
He storms out, slamming the door so hard behind him I jump. Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to cry. After what we shared, I can’t understand how he could be so cruel. So cold. My early impressions of Nate O’Reilly are dead-on. That’s the real man: nasty, narcissistic, thoughtless, selfish.
Arrogant prick.
Mentally exhausted, I put on some clothes, fetch my suitcase, and begin packing my things. If Nate thinks I’m going to hang around here waiting for him to calm down and apologize, well, he can fuck right off. I won’t be that girl. I open the dresser drawer as a soft tapping sounds on the door. I know it’s definitely not Nate returning to beg for forgiveness. He’d have barged in and expected me to fall to my knees in gratitude.
“Come in,” I call out.
Millie pops her head inside. “Are you decent?”
I shrug. “Not sure I can claim that, but I’m dressed if that’s what you mean.”
She closes the door behind her and comes farther into the room. “I just had the skin burned off my face by Nate as he stomped out of here at full pelt.” She gives me a warm smile. “I couldn’t sleep and was warming some milk. Want to talk about it?”
I plunk myself on the bed and rub my eyes. “I’m not sure I have an explanation for what happened.”
Millie sits beside me. “Take your time.”
I flop onto my back and hook my arms behind my head. “Nate didn’t want to come here. To New York, I mean. Not just the wedding.”
Millie lays down, too, and mirrors my pose. “Nate never wants to come here.”
I twist my head, hope spiking within me. “Do you know why?”
She shakes her head. “He visits so rarely, and when he does, he’s usually monosyllabic and miserable. These past couple days is the only time I’ve seen him say more than a handful of words, not to mention smile. I wasn’t sure he had teeth.”
I chuckle. The more time I spend with Millie, the more I like her. “Indie said the same thing the other day. About him being happy, I mean.” My cheeks puff up as I blow out a breath. “We argued because I questioned his reasons for staying away. I mean, you’re all so fabulous, I don’t understand why he’s so reluctant to spend time with you. Clearly, I hit a nerve. Or several.”
Millie sits up and crosses her legs. “Nate’s hiding something so poisonous, it’s eating him up from the inside.”
I frown. That’s exactly what I thought, but the fact Millie has picked up on it, too, when, by her own admission, she rarely sees Nate, piques my interest. “What makes you say that?”
She bites down on her lip. “Has Nate ever mentioned my past?”
I snort. “Nate doesn’t talk about any of you. He didn’t even mention Callum and Ciaran were identical twins, hence my stupefied look when I arrived on Thursday.”
“Oh dear.”
We laugh before Millie grows serious. “I went to school with Callum and Ciaran. I actually dated Callum for a few weeks before he grew tired of me and moved on.”
“Wow,” I say, adding, “Poor Laurella.”
“He’s grown up a lot since then, although I think Laurella dragged him kicking and screaming into adulthood. Anyway, I was sore when he dumped me, but I soon got over it because the captain of the football team started paying me lots of attention. I wasn’t even a cheerleader, so you can imagine how that went down with the other girls. Tanner was the dream. Good-looking, fit, the envy of the school, and he was interested in little old me.” She stares off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. “Stupidly, I married him. I was eighteen. For a while, things were good. He secured a tryout with the Chicago Bears, so we moved to Illinois. Then he damaged his knee, and bam!” She claps her hands. “Promising football career over. His way of coping with his terrible disappointment was to abuse me.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. “He hit you?”
She shakes her head. “Believe me, it would have been easier to deal with if he had. No, Tanner had a special way of breaking down my confidence and self-esteem until I didn’t even know who I was anymore. He got inside my head, and he systematically destroyed me.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, wondering why Millie is choosing to share all this with me.
“Oh, I’m not telling you for sympathy,” she says as if reading my thoughts. “My story ends well because Ciaran saved me. But I kept my secret for a long time. I thought people would blame me if they knew. ‘That stupid girl who let her husband walk all over her. I’d have gotten shot of him years ago. Why didn’t she? Maybe she liked him ruling over her.’ Yada yada. Anyhow, what I’m trying to say is I recognize the signs of someone carrying a terrible secret inside them—one they daren’t let loose because they’re terrified of what will happen if they do.”
“Nate,” I say, more to myself than Millie, but she nods anyway.
“Don’t give up on him. He’s such a sad person, yet with you, I see more than glimpses of… peace, I guess. Ciaran was my savior. I think you’re Nate’s.”
She yawns and gets to her feet. “Sorry, honey, but I need my bed. When he comes back—and he will—try not to be too hard on him. But at the same time, don’t let him hide from the truth. If he’s ever going to tell anyone what’s bugging him, I think you’re the one he’ll confide in.”
I stare at the ceiling long after Millie leaves, even though I’m exhausted. But eventually, my eyes fall shut, and I sleep.