Page 64 of Sparrow

“Orion,” I whisper. I don’t have anything else to say. No protest or encouragement. I just want to taste his name on my tongue.

“Stay,” he says again. “If it’s 2:30, Arden, you’re right on time. Because only good things happen after 2.”

His breathing goes deep and even again then, and I hold my own breath and listen to him for a long, slow moment.

Only good things happen after 2.

And he asked me to stay.

No one has ever asked me to stay before, and it feels... dangerous. Like there’s something actually at stake if I admit that I want to. Like he’s started a very risky game asking it of me, and we’re both tempting fate, here.

Both daring the universe to hurt us if we stop running and just sit together.

But holy fuck, do I want to. I want to believe him when he says that only good things happen at this time of night, and believe he knows what he’s talking about when he asks me to stay. That this is more than just a sleepy wish, but something that has true emotion and thought behind it.

I want to believe that he’s been planning this for days and has just now managed to say it.

Because the thought of someone actually wanting me to stay–of Orion wanting me here, with him–is so delicious, so wonderful, that I would do just about anything to make it true.

I snuggle further into his arms, trail one careful nail along the scar on his arm, and then close my eyes, exhausted, and find my way toward sleep. I didn’t think I’d be able to. I thought my brain was too awake.

But it turns out I just needed to feel as if I finally found home to do it.

Orion

Iwake up in the slow, dreamy way that tells me I’m happy and warm and safe, and for a moment I just lay there, enjoying the feeling of safety. I can feel that I’m not in my bed but I can also see that it’s dark, which mean it’s still night, not yet morning, and I’ve probably fallen asleep on the couch. I lift my arm and look at my watch. It’s 3 in the morning.

Nothing good is supposed to happen after 2, I remember.

Or maybe it’s only good things are supposed to happen after 2.

When I glance away from my watch, I see that I’m not alone on the couch. There’s a mass of light brown hair in me and a much smaller body tucked up against me, her ass flush against my cock and her ribs moving up and down in slow, rhythmic breaths.

Arden.

Arden is on the couch with me.

And we have a blanket over us. My boots are no longer on my feet and we’re cocooned together in a warm nest that I would never have built for myself. The last thing I remember, I’d just come in from the garage and realized that Mars and Arden were out. Feeling rudderless without her in the house I’d collapsed onto the couch, thinking I’d just wait for them to get home and then laughing at myself for needing the girl so much that I couldn’t sleep if she was out.

And now I’m waking up with her pressed against me, having taken my boots off and covered us both with a blanket.

Like this is all on purpose.

Like we’re just a couple of people who fall asleep on the couch together all the time.

My heart gives a sharp, sudden thud at the thought and I reflexively pull her tighter against me, like I need her even closer. Need her under my skin, in my body, with her sunshine smile and chocolate-flavored breath and ridiculous ability to make me admit to things I’ve never admitted to anyone before.

My movement wakes her enough that she shifts, and instead of drawing closer to me she freezes, then turn on her back and looks toward me.

“Orion?”

The words are sleepy and muffled, and her eyes aren’t actually open. She’s not actually awake, just vaguely remembering that I’m here.

And gods, something about the sleepy version of Arden, her cheeks flushed and her voice faint and so vulnerable, gets into my blood and eliminates any logic I ever had. She’s soft and sweet and warm and I want to sink into her and call her my home for the rest of my life.

Maybe I should be ashamed of that thought, some voice tells me. Maybe I should realize that I don’t know this girl as well as I want to.

That I have no idea whether she’ll stay if I hand her my heart.