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Her breath hitched in her throat, and I momentarily panicked, fearing that I’d taken it too far. But then her hands were in my hair, and her nose was brushing against mine, as her warm breath fanned my lips. “Gerard.”
“Claire,” I croaked out, feeling my entire body ignite in white-hot heat as my brain failed to enforce the many reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this.
Because this was so bad.
She was too close.
I was too fucking broken.
“Gerard.”
I blew out a pained breath. “Claire.”
She pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Feeling my resolve weaken when her lips brushed the curve of my mouth, I sagged forward, buckling under the pressure of my feelings for this girl. “Wait, I need to tell you something…”
A loud knock on the other side of my bedroom door had my body levitating out from beneath her. “Yeah?” I called out, scrambling to intercept the person on the other side of my door—and to put some much-needed space between our bodies.
“Yeah?” I repeated when I opened my door a crack and peered out.
My mother’s concerned face greeted me on the other side. “It’s almost half eleven.”
“So?”
“So, I could hear you pacing around in here all evening.” Sighing heavily, she added, “Gibs, pet, you need to try to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was just about to do,” I replied, and then I flicked off the big light for emphasis, stifling her view of my room. “Night, Mam.”
“Night, pet,” she replied. “And if you wake in the night, just come and get me okay? No need to go wandering across the road. I’m here for you, too, you know. Always.”
Like hell you are. “Okay.” Offering her a half-hearted smile, I closed the door and sagged against it. Fuck.
“This is nice,” Claire announced when I finally turned around to face her. She was already under the covers and making herself comfortable in my bed. “What’s the saying; a change is better than a rest?”
Panic clawed at my gut. “You want to sleep in here?”
“Well, I think it’s only fair considering you hog my bed most nights.”
Well, shit.
How could I argue with that?
Blowing out a ragged breath, I walked back to my bed and drew back the covers. “This is confusing,” I added, climbing in. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”
“What?” she snickered, rolling onto her side to face me. “Because I’m on the right side of the bed when you usually are?”
“Yes,” I replied emphatically. “It feels all fucked up.”
“Well, suck it up, buttercup, because I’m the big spoon tonight,” she cackled, draping an arm around me. “Now, give me your back and let me snuggle you.”
“There’s a word for this,” I grumbled, while complying with her request by rolling onto my side and assuming the little spoon position. “I heard Johnny say it before. He called it emasculation.”
“I would never emasculate you, Gerard,” she whispered, fingers trailing over my bare stomach. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Neither do I.” I chuckled, snatching her wandering hand up in mine when it trailed precariously low to the waistband of my boxers. “Behave yourself, Miss Biggs.”
“Gerard?”
