Page 58 of Not Even Close


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Might as well, right? They were driving down to La Jolla Friday afternoon anyway. What was the point of her going back and forth to her dorm? Despite it feeling like a slight risk—a bit pushy—she’d agreed with a timid smile and they were finally off the phone. Byron just didn’t want her to think for a second that he was pressuring her into doing more physically than what they’d done so far. They still hadn’t taken that next terrifying step in the relationship. Terrifying, because a part of him was actually grateful they hadn’t gone there yet. Just like what she said she’d told her mother that first week, about being nervous andwhy, Byron often wondered the same thing now. If he was feeling all this already and he hadn’t even slept with her yet, how thehellwas he supposed to handle anything going wrong once he was in that deep.

He lay there tossing and turning for a while trying to be more excited than nervous about this weekend. They may not have slept together yet, but things had gotten pretty damn heavy in the past few weeks and he knew they were close. Both her parents and her grandparents had offered to let him stay in one of their spare bedrooms, but Byron had insisted on getting a room. No matter how much Savannah assured him it wouldn’t be a big deal if he stayed at her parents’ house. Byron knew it’d be awkward as fuck. After discussing it further, and because Savannah had since spoken to her mother several times, she’d be staying with him at the hotel. Seems a lot of their out-of-town family members were also being invited to stay with her parents and grandparents. So, Savannah had offered her room up. They’d now be staying together in his hotel room for their weekend so he’d already had a feeling this weekend would be the game changer. At least for him anyway, and now it might happen even sooner.

The longer he laid there unable to sleep, the more his mind teetered between two unnerving thoughts. That hispastmight keep creeping up and rattling shit for them, and that his feelings of entitlement were already through the fucking roof. The women in his past would eventually start to taper off. But how easy would it be for things to go south because of his second worry? Too easy.

Chirping birds just outside the window seemed to get louder. Byron frowned because he didn’t want the noise to wake Savannah. Only reason he didn’t try to slide his arm from under her so he could get up to close the window, was he was certain that would wake her too, and he couldn’t get enough of watching her sleep soundly in his arms. If it weren’t for the perpetual nagging feeling in his gut, he’d answer the long-disputed question of whether there was such a thing as heaven on earth with a boisterous, yes! Unequivocally, yes there is! But the smile the thought brought to his face was fleeting because just like that, his gut tightened and the chirping outside got even louder. Only it wasn’t random chirping anymore. It was an actual tune. One Byron couldn’t make out, but it sounded sad, ominous—sinister even. Wincing when it got so loud, he was sure Savannah would wake at any moment. His heart nearly gave out when he looked down and she was gone.

Sitting up suddenly, as the birds went instantly silent, he glanced around. “Savannah?” She walked into the room wearing nothing more than his oversized T-shirt brushing her teeth. Byron shook his head confused. “How?” He turned down to the bed where she’d been laying just a moment ago. “How’d you get up without me feeling you?”

The ominous tune coming from outside started up again as he got out of bed. This time it didn’t even sound like chirping. It was music. She motioned that she had a mouthful of toothpaste and couldn’t talk. Afraid she’d disappear again Byron followed her back to the bathroom.

Savannah leaned over the sink and rinsed her mouth. She said something as soon as she was done but the music was so damn loud, he couldn’t make out what she was saying. “What?”

Her lips moved but there was no sound. At least Byron couldn’t hear any words. Except he didn’t even care anymore. He reached out for her, wanting nothing more than to have her in his arms. Once again, his heart nearly gave out on him when she slipped through his hands like grains of sand, and she disappeared.

Byron opened his eyes, blinked twice then laid there for a moment. “What thehellwas that about?”

He rarely remembered anything he dram, yet he remembered this one so vividly. Not wanting to move, he just lay there very still, as if moving might make him forget some of the details. He wasn’t even surewhyhe’d want to remember. It’s not like it was a pleasant dream but there was something about it. It felt foreboding. Though he’d never been one to buy into the dreams meaning something, bullshit.

Glancing down at his clenched hand on his stomach he remembered something little Elsa of all people had told him once. He was over at Beast’s place one evening on Little’s duty, on a rare occasion when Beast and Ali had gone out for the night without the girls. Lucy had fallen asleep on the chaise in the front room with both her hands on her belly. He’d started to whisper to Elsa not to wake her sister when he saw her walk over and start to touch Lucy’s arm.

She’d shaken her head before he could finish and gently moved Lucy’s hands from her belly to her sides. After tiptoeing away, she explained why she had. “Mommy said when you sleep your whole body is like dead weight. So, your hands on your belly are heavier against it when you’re asleep than if you had them there when you were awake. She says too much weight against your belly can make for bad dreams. I believe it because Lucy falls asleep a lot with her hands on her belly and she has lots of bad dreams.”

Smiling, Byron remembered how carrying Xochitl up to their dorm the night of the Frat Row fiasco,hadfelt like carrying dead weight. When he lifted his wrist up to check the time on his watch, he was surprised to see it was already close to eight in the morning. Chalking off the dream to his worrying about blowing it with Savannah, he got out of bed and decided to look forward to his upcoming day with her instead. Ali’s theory about sleeping with his fist on his belly made sense. That’s likely where the ominous music came in.

After sending Orlando a text asking if he was free to close for him tonight, he jumped into the shower. When he got out, he read Orlando’s response with a smile. His wife and kids weren’t even in town today. He planned on staying late anyway since he wasn’t looking forward to getting home to an empty house.

Perfect. He text back thanking Orlando for covering for him. As he got ready, made coffee, and threw together a quick omelet he kept checking his watch the whole time. Nine was already downstairs with the rest of the crew so Byron didn’t bother going down. He started packing his bag for the weekend instead. The whole time he thought about how he’d be spending his time with Savannah today—pampering her—allday. Though throughout his packing he couldn’t quite shake the tense knot in his gut he woke with. Each time he thought of the possibility that this could be it, they might be taking that next step in their relationship, the knot got even tighter.

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