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Jesus, get a grip, man.
"Marisol, give me the phone." She screeches. "Give it to me now! No, Marisol, no."
A laugh escapes him as he hears them go back and forth, the banter ending in a loud thump.
"Alright, fine, keep your secrets." There was some hushed talking on the other side of the door. He couldn't quite make out what was being said. They were probably further into her room now. Then, the door opened and closed on the other side as things grew quiet.
He tries again.
Nash: Please join me.
And now he is begging. It looks like this is who he is now, some poor sap begging for scraps of affection, but let's face it, he wasn’t above begging, not for Melody.
Melody
____________________
Sitting on the bed, heart racing, Melody clutches her phone to her chest. That was way too close. What if Marisol had seen the picture or read any of their messages? Things were getting too real; they jumped over a line that shouldn’t have ever been crossed, and now the lines between right and wrong were getting blurred.
Her phone buzzes again.
He wants her to go to him. And God, she really wants to, more than anything, but should she? Her brain was a battlefield, indecision warring with idealism. What she should do was different from what she wanted to do, and what she wanted to do was curl up in Nash's arms and stay there forever.
Sitting on Marisol's bed, she pulls up the message thread.
A text from Max pops up.
Unknown Number: Hey Melody, It’s Max.
Unknown Number: I got your number from Rosa.
Unknown Number: I hope that's ok.
She doesn't respond, quickly flicking the text box up and out of sight. She didn't want to deal with him right now. She doesn’t want to lead him on, but maybe she should give him a chance.
Nash: Please Join me
Nash: Come to me, please.
Followed by another picture of him in bed, with a pouty frown on that gorgeous mouth.
Ugh, why does she even bother? She can't deny him a damn thing. Even when her brain is telling her this won't end well. Even when she knows she should leave him alone. Leave him to find someone who can be his everything, someone who can give him their entire self, not just bits and pieces.
But, alas, she is a selfish bitch. So, instead of ignoring his pleas or ending things before they take it way too far, she goes to him.
She wore Duke's old shirt again, underwear, and no bra because, well, it's a torturous device, and she wants to lay down.Tiptoeing up to the door, she hovers for a moment. Maybe he is asleep; she doesn't want to bother him. She hears rustling on the other side, then a ding on her phone. Looking down, she looks up.
Nash: You know I can see you, right?
Melody: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Nash: Just get in here already.
Melody: Why should I?
Nash: Because I want to cuddle. :(
She huffs out a laugh and opens the door slowly. The only light is the one currently filtering through the open doorway. She can barely see anything, but she knows instinctively that he is on the bed and waiting for her. Not wanting to disappoint, she makes her way over to him.
