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It’s a struggle for me too.
“Can I hug you?” he asks with a whisper.
I nod but hold up a finger in a silent gesture for him to wait. I tiptoe into my bedroom to lay Lainey down in her crib next to my bed, careful not to wake her or my sisters. I whine inwardly, looking at my cold single bed. I want so badly to pick her up and run back to James’s house so I can fall asleep next to him, cuddled up in his warm arms in his ridiculously comfy bed all night long.
When I make it back to the front door, I don’t hesitate to step directly into his open arms, which tighten almost to the point of pain around me. I know I shouldn’t, but I loop my arms around his neck while I silently cry. I cry because I want to go back home with him, to give all of myself to him, but I know that now is not the right time. I don’t know if there ever will be a right time.
He kisses my cheek. It’s just a small kiss, but it lingers on my skin, his lips gently brushing back and forth. We stay just like that for a long time, neither of us willing to let go first. But when I hear the sound of a door opening somewhere behind me, we both reluctantly pull away.
With one last brush of a kiss against my cheek, he whispers, “Goodnight, angel,” and slowly makes his way back across the street. I watch him until the very last moment when he gets inside his house and almost has the front door closed. We both wave, and I finally close the door and drag my feet back to my bedroom.
I may have just taken the world’s longest nap, but I’m beyond drained after our emotionally intense conversation and goodnight hug. My bed is small, lumpy, and hard, and I toss and turn for an hour, unable to get comfortable. I cry, pressing my face into my pillow so I don’t wake anyone, thinking about how sleeping next to James was the best, most relaxing sleep of my life.
It’s only the supreme exhaustion and resultant headache that follows on the heels of all my tears that finally has me drifting off into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 18
Shayla
School is even more of a nightmare now, thanks to the sleep deprivation over the last five weeks that rivals Lainey’s newborn sleep habits. No matter how many warm, aromatherapy Epsom salt baths I take and all the other things I’ve tried to wear myself out, I just can’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep alone in my bed.
With James’s help, I’ve passed all of my history tests, even with the unfair point deductions Mr. Heart keeps giving me, and have since kept my grade up. But that’s the only class I’ve kept up. I’m starting to fall behind in all my other classes, which leads to worry about my graduating GPA twisting my stomach.
James doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping much, either, and I wonder if it’s affecting his work as much as it does my schooling.
Mom can tell something’s wrong, and she fusses over me when I’m home as much as she does Brady. I reiterate that I’m simply tired but never expand on the reason why I’m so tired. I can’t tell her about James, about how I cry every night after I force myself to say goodnight to him and come home, which doesn’t even feel like home anymore.
I don’t know how it all happened so quickly, falling so searingly hard for James, but it did. Those three nights spent in bed with him have ruined me for everything else, and I cling to the desperate hope that everything will eventually go back to normal—and soon. It has to at some point, right?
Thankfully, Dad has been in and out of town speaking at various conferences for work, so the dinner Mom wants to plan with James keeps getting pushed back. Dad has a sharp eye, and since my parents already have concerns regarding how much time I spend with James, Dad would have his eyes trained on us like a hawk. I don’t know how I would hide my longing for James—and a good night’s sleep in his bed—from either of them.
Because that’s what this is. Longing. For him to touch me. For more than the hugs that linger each night. For more than the small, hesitant kisses on the cheek or at the corner of my lips. For more than his hands slowly sliding up my back or down to my hips when we’re standing near each other.
James has since given me a few more lessons on coding and programming at night after we put the babies to bed. I think it’s his way of keeping me from going home for as long as possible, but I appreciate it all the same. He knows how important planning my future is to me, and the more I learn, the more excited I get about narrowing my major down. With graduation just around the corner, it’s more important than ever that I focus on school and finishing strong.
But it’s increasingly, upsettingly, more difficult to concentrate. Not only because of how tired I’ve been but also because I’ll never be able to look at his gaming chair the same way. Scenes from the first time we were intimate flash through my mind every time he leads me into his office. The way I was so nervous at first, but also how my heart pounded with excitement when I first unclipped my top and gave myself to him. The way I slowly rocked my hips over his bulge as he suckled my breast…
We circle each other, heated gazes that I must break lest I give in and do something I regret. Hands that I have to snatch back to my sides when they begin to drift up under his shirt or down between us when we hug. I’m trying so hard to stay in control of my wants, my desires, and it’s taking its toll, physically and mentally.
* * *
Though it’s the end of the school week, and I normally would look forward to sleeping in an extra hour or two if Lainey lets me, I know that won’t happen anytime soon. I’m getting closer and closer to reaching my breaking point.
I can’t let myself give in, though. Not if I want to stick to the plan I have mapped out for my future, for Lainey’s future. I’ll get through this, I remind myself for the thousandth time. We’ll both get through this and move on with our lives, as much as it pains me to imagine that.
James had asked me last weekend if I would help him tomorrow with setting up and hosting his first game night since he took guardianship of Grayson now that all of their schedules have aligned. I jumped at the chance because it meant I’d finally get to meet his friends. It also gives me the excuse to stay as late as he needs me to in case Grayson wakes up so he can hang out with his friends uninterrupted.
But now I’m dead on my feet, knowing that won’t make a great first impression. I mean, what are they going to think of me, the strange girl unable to keep her thoughts straight and sentences coherent? I’ll more than likely end up embarrassing myself by crying at some point before I end up nodding off on James’s couch, as I have done more than once recently.
Something’s got to give.
I don’t bother uselessly trying to hold back my tears as I pick up Lainey’s toys and stuff them in her diaper bag more aggressively than necessary before we leave for the night. I accidentally fumble with Lainey’s prized blocks, dropping one onto my big toe, and I cry even harder. It didn’t even hurt, and it’s so ridiculously silly, but it’s just one more crappy thing on top of the long list of crappy things since that horrible night I broke whatever it was kindling between me and James.
And that’s how he finds me—crying into my hands as I lean against the front door, trying to build up the energy and resolve to put my shoes on and get Lainey from the nursery so we can head home.
“Shayla? What’s wrong?”
I sense his body heat behind me before his warm hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and there’s no resisting the urgent need to turn and throw my arms around his neck and cling to him with all of my strength. He skates his large palm down my back and cradles the back of my head with the other. I cry into his shoulder as I tighten my arms until I’m standing on just the tips of my toes, pressing myself closer to him.
