I don’t understand why this male always has me so on edge. But not in anI’m concerned for my safetyway, but rather in anI’m doing everything I can not to visibly show how sexually attracted I am to himway. Because I really shouldn’t be. He’s helping me out of the kindness of his heart… or rather I suppose at the behest of the Fates. I know we’re starting to drift into more of a friendship, but I can’t help feeling like I’m still an inconvenience to him. There’s no reason he would need to accompany me to my parents, and yet, he insists. And don’t even get me started again on how he’s Unseelie and I’m Seelie. I haven’t had the full experience of the conflict between the two courts, but even the stories we could get back in Willowbrook advised on the severity of their hatred towards each other. I knowhedoesn’t care about who I am.
A Seelie.
A princess.
And I don’t care who he is as an Unseelie. But I have no doubt that it will be a point of contention should anyone on either side of our borders find out.
But I also can’t help the fact that I feel drawn to him. Connected in some way. More than him being the one to find me on the outskirts of the castle the first night. But I can’t put my finger on what it is. Why we feel like this. Because I know he feels a similar pull. Or at least he did…
Does he still?
I shake my head, scattering the train of thought. Rising from the table, I make my way to the bedroom. I shuck off my leggings before I crawl into the warmth of the blankets.
The creak of the shower faucet shutting off startles me as I remember Bastian is very muchnot clothedon the other side of that door. I hastily roll over so that my back faces towards the bathroom door. I burrow down into the blankets as the bathroom door opens and a wave of humidity reaches the back of my exposed neck.
Slowly, I roll over enough so I can try to catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye as he’s pulling a shirt over his head. The brief glimpse of his muscled chest and stomach is enough to follow me into my dreams for weeks. Maybe even more than that. Heat rises to my cheeks again and I duck my face further into the bedding to hide the evidence.
“Have a goodnight, Liv,” he says, amusement heavy in his voice.
Don’t do it. You shouldn’t do it. It’s asking for trouble. Don’t do?—
“Wait,” I call out before he can get away.
Fucking hell, Olivia, you did it.
He freezes half in the doorway and turns to face me where I’m now sitting up in the bed. He raises an eyebrow at me in question. “This is your house,” I say softly.
“Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he says, leaning his upper body against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his cotton pants hanging loose off his hips.
I let out an exasperated breath. “What I mean to say is that this is your house. Your… bed. We’re about to not see a bed for the next however many days so you may as well sleep here.” His eyebrows climb high at that. “We’re both adults. I don’t see why we can’t platonically share a bed for the sake of comfort.”
“Liv, I don’t know…” he trails off, uncertainty written on his face and something else that almost looks like… hope?
“For fuck’s sake, you slept on a floor last night!” I throw my arms out wide. “And maybe not even at all in the cave the night before. I can’t let you sleep on the sofa again.”
“You can’t, can you?” He smirks which sends warmth flowing through me.
I cross my arms over my chest. “No, I can’t. So, you might as well sleep in the bed.”
His eyes dart between mine, looking for any sign or wariness on my behalf. “Are you certain?”
I sigh. “Yes. Now come on before it gets too late, and we don’t even get to sleep at all.” His eyebrows jump again and this time I realize the innuendo in my words. I’m sure I look like a tomato right about now with the way my face burns. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I stammer.
He lets out a chuckle. “I know.”
With a shake of his head, he closes the distance to where I have the blankets flipped open for him. The bed dips as his weight settles into the mattress, causing my body to involuntarily tilt towards him. I try to sneakily slide away from him as much as possible. I know I’m the one that suggested—more like fought—for us to share the bed, but us touching seems intimate in a way that I don’t think he wants. Even with the distance between us, I can still feel the heat radiating off his body. It has a pull of its own, drawing me in like a moth to a flame.
“You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it all the same,” his voice penetrates the stillness of the room.
“It’s not a problem,” I reply, voice coming out weirdly breathy.
“Sweet dreams, Liv.”
“Goodnight,” I whisper back as I roll so my back faces him.
I thought for sure I would be so tired that I could pass out the second my head hit the pillow, but with him in this bed with me, I’m tense and on edge. My mind won’t shut off as it does everything it can to keep my body from turning into his. It’s running a mile a minute with possibilities and what not to do while we share this bed. I shift again, trying desperately to get comfortable against the hyperactivity of my mind.
“You’re thinking too loud.”
