22. Drew #2
She jumps when something brushes against our legs and we both look down to see Bailey, staring up at us.
“I told you this would happen,” I say.
“You should have been pushier and refused to put on the movie,” Jules says.
We finished the movie fifteen minutes ago and she’s been stuck to my side like glue.
“Every single member of my family will disown me if they find out I’ve been pushy with women. That’s just never going to happen.”
Something flickers in her eyes that I can’t determine. She swallows, nodding at me. “Well, there’s only one thing we can do, and it’s a good thing we have practice with it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What? Arguing? Not tonight, honey, I’m exhausted.”
Jules crosses her arms, glaring up at me. “I meant, sleep together.”
I think I prefer arguing.
“What kind of man do you take me for? That was a one time thing in a desperate situation.” I straighten my shirt. “I don’t like the insinuation you’re making.”
She rolls her lips between her teeth, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Neither of us will be able to sleep tonight.” She winks at me. “You know you want to.”
Sharing a bed with her now will be the worst mistake I can make. It was different in New York. Now, her scent lingers in every room of my house and my dog has a routine of pawing at her door every morning so they watch the birds through her window.
Jules is settling into the empty places of my life.
“Please?” She widens her eyes, her lips forming a pout. Where is the man who could resist her easily? Because clearly I’ve been possessed by one who’ll do anything she asks, as long as she looks at me.
I sigh. “Sure, let’s go.”
She squeals, grabbing my arm over my shirt. Even so, I can feel the softness of her hand, her skin warm.
“Thank you! Who’s bed should we sleep in?”
“Definitely yours,” I say hurriedly. I don’t want her in my room. It’s the only place in the house she hasn’t been in and is thankfully still safe from her scent. I also don’t want her seeing anything and asking questions.
“Even better! Let’s go, Bailey!”
Bailey rushes up the stairs and Jules follows after me. I take one last long around the living room, check the front door again and climb upstairs. My steps are slow and heavy. Clearly, I’m dreading what’s coming.
“I’m just going to change,” I say. Jules is standing on the landing, in front of her room, and nods.
I disappear into my room and change into lounge pants and a t-shirt before walking to her room. The door is open, soft light flooding out into the hallway. I walk in and see that Jules is already in bed, Bailey lying at the end of it like she always sleeps there.
“Come on.” Jules pats the space next to her.
“Do you want the lights off?”
“What do you think?” She’s watching me with wide eyes.
The lights are on a dimmer, so I lower them to a comfortable level before getting into the bed. I breathe in and immediately regret it when her scent floods through me. I’m never going to recover. They’re going to have to bury me in whatever that scent is.
I’m lying flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, when I feel her gaze on the side of my face.
“Can you believe that merely a month ago if someone had told us we’ll be sharing a bed willingly, we would have laughed in their face?” she asks.
I turn to look at her. This is a king sized bed and we’re sticking to our sides, but she’s still closer than expected.
“The funniest part is you’ve been the one to suggest it both times,” I say.
She turns over, tucking her hands under her cheek. “Can I tell you something? Do you promise not to laugh or think it’s weird?”
I mirror her pose, turning onto my side. “You can tell me anything.”
I mean it. The more I get to know Jules, the more I see why my sister has stood by her all these years.
Jules is smart, funny, kind, and loyal. I can regret not seeing it earlier, but I’m not someone who regrets things that can’t be fixed.
Maybe it needs to happen now for me to appreciate what’s in front of me.
“This has been the first time I’ve shared a bed with a man in almost a decade,” Jules confesses softly.
I frown. “Why did you think I’d laugh at that?”
Her shoulder moves in a shrug. “I don’t know. Isn’t it weird that I’ve never slept beside someone in that long?”
“It’s only weird in your head,” I say gently. “I don’t think it’s weird. I don’t think there’s a correct way to have a relationship and most relationship milestones are created by a patriarchal society.”
Jules traces the patterns on the bedspread. “So you don’t think you should have sex after a certain number of dates?”
I scoff. “Fuck, no. Because that makes it seem like sex is owed, like a favor, rather than a natural progression of a romantic, intimate relationship.”
“Not to mention it automatically assumes everyone has sexual feelings, thereby erasing ace people from the conversation,” Jules adds.
“Exactly,” I agree. “And lots of people, even married people, sleep in different beds. For whatever reason. No one should have a say in your relationship other than you and your partner, and if your partner doesn’t understand that, kick them to the curb.”
Jules laughs lightly. “I’d prefer to hit them with my car.”
“You’re a bad driver, so it’s entirely possible you probably will one day,” I say.
Gasping, she kicks me under the cover. “How dare you? I’m an excellent driver.”
“Tell that to the trash cans you annihilated while we were learning to drive,” I say.
“Oh my god, I’m not sure I should share a bed with a man who doubts my incredible skills.”
I turn over, staring up at the ceiling again. “You haven’t shown me all your skills yet, so I can’t doubt them.”
She gasps again and I feel another kick against my shin. “Andrew Callahan, do not make sexual jokes with me.”
I look at her, smiling. “I didn’t say anything sexual. Maybe you’re thinking sexual things about me.”
Eyes wide, Jules reaches behind her and grabs a pillow, which lands on my chest as she hits me with it.
“That’s it, I’m not talking to you for the rest of the night,” she declares, turning away from me.
I smile up at the ceiling.
Fuck, I’m in so much trouble.