Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
FYN
The moment I lay down beside her, she fell asleep. I could smell the floral soap she last washed her hair with.
I shouldn’t have agreed to any of this.
The stars must have cursed me for some reason.
I was lying in bed next to the one woman I wasn’t supposed to want, wanting her.
Not knowing what she was going to say was clawing at me. I should have let her speak, but if she had—I would never know if it was her or the wine.
No male wanted to be chosen in a drunken confession. Ashlyn had made it her mission not to choose me.
Over and over again.
Whatever it was she would say, it would have to wait.
I wouldn’t dare hope what the words were. Tomorrow would reveal her truth.
Lying next to her was too much to bear. When my feet hit the floor, I heard her grumble.
She rolled over, reaching toward me. “Stay, Fyn.” Her voice was tender even when she was drunk. “With me.”
She quickly fell back asleep.
“You have a horrible sense of humor,” I murmured beneath my breath to the stars. “Absolutely horrible. It’s disgusting, really.”
Exhaustion pulled me to sleep faster than I expected.
Groggily, I awoke in the darkness to a pressure on my chest.
The floral scent was even stronger—blonde hair was draped over me.
She was draped over me—holding onto me.
I braced her shoulders, slowly trying to move her back. She rolled over and clutched onto me like she’d never let go.
The ache settled even deeper in my chest.
I couldn’t risk her waking up. She would hate me finding her like this.
So I squeezed my eyes shut and counted backward, trying to keep my breath even so I wouldn’t wake her.
After way too long, sleep took me.