Page 14 of See Through

She starts to get up, but I grab her arm. “Don’t leave. Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Why?”

“I’m trying to make sure you’re real.”

She laughs, and I think that might be my favorite sound in the universe. Forget anything else I’ve heard—Aubrey Spencer’s laugh is above all of it.

“I’m real, Dean. As real as you are.”

I’m still trying to catch my breath. “Thank you for staying.”

“I had to make sure you were okay. You’re my best friend.” There’s my favorite fucking word again. Maybe it’s just me, but the tension in this room is far too palpable for me to like that word. “Let me get you some water.”

“Thanks,” I say as I watch her slip out of my room. I notice the pillows and blankets from my couch on the floor, all ruffled, as if she woke up quickly. I grab my own pillow and a soft gray blanket from the end of my bed, setting my stuff next to hers. She knows my routine by now. I’m sure that’s why she set up here.

My back hits the wall as I sit, hearing her footsteps coming closer as she notices I’m now on the floor. She hands me the glass of water and joins me where I’m sitting, her legs sliding against mine as she watches me take a sip.

“You okay?”

“Better now.” My breathing has started to get back to normal, but every time I look at her, I can feel it change. She’s wearing the same thing she always does when she stays over—the matching pink sweater and shorts set. She bought it because it perfectly matched her hair, and now, it lives at the bottom of my closet in case she doesn’t feel like going home after a long night of planning our videos, or whatever it may be. Her hair is thrown up in a bun, always looking perfect, because she’s perfect. Fuck, she’s so perfect, and here she is, sitting next to me, her skin on mine, her eyes looking in my direction. It’s always hard for me to breathe around her, and I should have known tonight would be no different. “I’m always better when you’re around.”

“That might be the pain meds talking.”

“Pain meds?”

“You have a small bump on your head from when you fell. Your scan was clear, but they still gave you some medication in case your head hurt, which it did when we got home.”

Home. I wish this was our home and not just mine. “Huh. I guess I do feel great, besides the nightmare. Where’s the bump?”

I start feeling around for it, her hand meeting mine as she guides me to it. It’s small, but I can feel it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus on anything but her hand, but I really try to. Most of the time, I avoid touching her, because I know I can’t have her. She’s not mine, no matter how much I’m hers.

But every time her skin touches mine, goosebumps crawl all over my body, as if it can’t believe she’s touching me.

“It’s not too big, thankfully.” She smiles, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“This feels like a dream,” I say after a few beats of silence, the only sounds being the rain tapping against the window. “Seeing you here in my bedroom when I wake up.”

“You dream a lot of me, do you?”

You have no idea. “More than I’d care to admit.”

Her head shoots up, her eyes finding mine as I look at my beautiful best friend in front of me. I wish I could explain everything. I wish I could ask her if she’s watching over me because she feels like she has to, or if she wants to be here with me.

I already know the answer. I know she feels like I got hurt because of her, but all I can think about is how charged the room feels. The two of us are in our own bubble, her beauty distracting me from the terror outside, and all I need in this moment is her.

I can’t seem to stop my mouth from moving. Maybe I’m being a little too forward right now, but she hasn’t left yet. She’s firmly by my side, and the small glimmer of hope in my chest is getting bigger by the minute.

“Wow, those pain meds are really doing a number on you.”

“Nope. You’re doing a number on me.” My gaze drops to her parted lips, as if she can’t believe I’ve just said that.

“You’re just saying things now, Dean. Maybe you should try to go back to sleep. You have to be up in,” she checks her phone, “four hours. I can't believe you won’t call into work.”

“I’ll be okay.”

I can’t tell her I don’t want to sleep because then whatever’s happening between us—if it even is anything—will end. Tomorrow, we’ll go back to being best friends, and the two of us won’t speak of this again.

“I never sleep well after a nightmare.”