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JODIE
Iwas utterly spent when we finally fell back into the bed as a tangle of limbs at whatever time it was in the middle of the night.
Toby woke me, thrashing about in bed, but before I could do anything about it, he threw the covers back and got out. Despite being wasted and high, sleeping beside someone was unusual, and even though I was exhausted, I was still aware of him.
My heart ached in the darkness as I watched him fighting whatever battles he holds inside. I wanted to go to him, to help him, but something told me it was the wrong thing to do, that he needed the silence, the solitude.
But eventually, my need to comfort him became too much. And I’m glad I did. He instantly accepted my touch, my support, and despite not having a clue as to what was tormenting him, I felt like I was taking some of the weight from him just by being there.
For the first time, he really let me take charge as I sunk down onto him. It was slow, lazy, but no less intense than anything we’d experienced together before. If anything, it was more. So much more. I felt so connected to him in those few moments, surrounded by nothing but darkness and our combined pain.
I was wrecked after the day I’d had. My heart was in a million pieces, the grief overwhelming, but somehow, he’d managed to pick up all my broken, jagged parts and begin to put them all back together.
“You’re almost too good to be true,” he whispered in my ear after a slow but earth-shattering release had ripped through me.
He might have been the one to say those words, but I felt them down to my soul.
He was everything I needed. The light in my darkness. My escape from the never-ending pit of despair.
I know the second I wake that he’s not there. The room feels empty. But it doesn’t stop me from rolling over and hoping that I might find him lying beside me.
A sigh falls from my lips when I realise that I was right. Not only is he not here, but the bed is cold, like he’s been gone a while.
Sitting up, I hold the covers to my chest as my eyes find the huge windows.
Clouds hang heavy in the sky, the air hazy with the rain that’s pounding against the glass. But even still, the view is beautiful. I could wake to this every day and never think about the city again, I’m sure.
A crash from somewhere downstairs finally gets me moving, and after a quick trip to the bathroom and swiping Toby’s hoodie from the chaise I found him on last night, I head down to find him.
My eyes linger on all the pieces of art which line the walls as I make my way from the bedroom toward the stairs. If the cabin didn’t already scream insane wealth, then these certainly would. I mean, I have no idea who the signatures belong to, but they’re clearly someone worthy of giving wall space to.
There’s another crash as I drop down the first stair, and then the scent of frying bacon hits my nose and my stomach growls embarrassingly loudly.
I come to a grinding halt as I turn toward the kitchen. My eyes almost bug out of my head and my chin drops at the sight.
Toby is standing in front of the stove wearing only a pair of low-hanging sweats, his toned and tanned skin on display for me to eat up while he not only cooks but also dances to the music playing softly from some hidden speakers.
It takes me a few seconds to register the song because I’m so lost to the ripple of his muscles and the way his hips move, but the second realisation hits, I can’t help but bark out a laugh of amusement.
He stills for a beat, the utensil in his hand dropping into the frying pan before he turns toward me.
“Oh hey,” he says, the most endearing smile pulling at his lips at being caught.
A laugh bubbles up my chest as I close the space between us.
“Little Mix? Really?” I ask teasingly.
“It was just on.” He shrugs.
“Sure it was,” I say, running my hands up his chest and locking my arms around his shoulders. “It’s okay, bad boy. Your secret is safe with me.”
A hum of appreciation rumbles in the back of his chest. “I knew I could trust you, Demon,” he says, dipping down to brush his lips against mine, his hands grasping my waist. “You smell like heaven,” he whispers. “I wonder if you taste as good.”
His lips claim mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, and I sag in his arms, drowning in everything he has to offer me.
That is, until my stomach lets it be known just how hungry it is, and he pulls back with a laugh.
“I think I need to feed my girl,” he says, dropping a final kiss to the end of my nose.
