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After a while of thinking about every random thing my brain could possibly present to me, I turn my head to the side and whisper, “Don’t let me fall asleep, okay?”

Through a yawn, Ash replies, “Okay, babe. Talk to me. ”

Glad that he wants me here, I do. I tell him all about my childhood. How it was growing up Croatian. About the time Helena put the cat in the fridge. How mom makes me pala?inke, Croatian pancakes, every time I come home. That my dad knows how to swear in eight languages. About my first high school crush.

“And he was such an ass. He told everyone he fucked me and that I wasn’t any good. I mean puh-lease, right? If I could, I’d fuck myself because I’m that good. ” With every soft and slow word I say, my eyes droop further closed. Somehow we’ve become tangled in each other. Ash cradles me to his chest with his nose buried in my hair, breathing me in. I remind him, “Don’t let me fall asleep, okay?”

He grunts his acknowledgement so I continue weakly, “Then I saw him a while later and he was all, ‘you look so good’ and ‘maybe we could go on a date’…” Through a yawn, I go on, barely able to keep my eyes open and slurring my words, “…and I was like whatever, asshole. ”

Everything fades to black.

Lights out.

Chapter Seventeen

Pajama party

Something warm presses into me and sighs sweetly then snuggles deeper into my chest.

What the fuck?

It takes a while for me to open my eyes, but when I do, I almost shit a brick.

The sun is out.

My brow bunches in total confusion. I don’t remember waking last night. My body isn’t sore or tense from the violent night terrors that haunt

me every fucking night of my life. Probably because I didn’t have any last night, and when I look down, I think I find the cause.

She looks so beautiful.

Innocent.

That makes me smirk. I know she’s anything but innocent but she does look it right now.

Not wanting to wake her, I reach for my cell phone on the nightstand and turn off the alarm. It’s still early, just past six am. As gently as I can, I take the arm that’s gripping my side, move it up and over til she rolls the other way.

Well, that was easy.

Standing, I take a good look at her. She looks so tiny alone in my bed. Her flaming red hair such a contrast against my navy pillows and covers.

Beautiful.

Running a hand through my hair and shaking my head in disbelief, I make my way to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. As I finish getting the coffee started, my brow furrows in confusion and I sigh.

This is not good. The last thing I need is to become more attached to Nat. I care about her and I know she cares about me too in a fuck-buddy kind of way. I just really didn’t need this shit right now.

What is it about her?

She doesn’t take shit from me.

It’s more than that and you know it.

My phone buzzes, breaking me out of my thoughts. Leaning forward, I check the display and my good morning turns to shit. I reach forward and reject the call. What is she doing calling me anyways? It’s not like I ever answer her calls. Nik is always telling me to change my number, but it’s the fucking principle that stops me from doing it. She shouldn’t be calling. I shouldn’t have to change anything because she can’t let go. Fuck her. I don’t want to see her or hear what she has to say. That ship has sailed.

I hear shuffling down the hall and Nat emerges. I can’t help but grin at her appearance. She’s all over the place. Her lipstick and eye makeup are smeared across her face and her hair looks like it’s been teased. Obviously having been cold, she wears one of my long sleeved tees and she’s swimming in it. I try not to think about how much I like her wearing my shit but, fuck, I do. I’m getting hard.

“The eighties called. They want their hairstyle back,” I tell her.

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