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We ride the elevator up to the ninth floor, the ding of the door opening wakes me up a tiny bit more, but by the time we are walking down the hallway to our room, I’m half asleep again. Oliver has an arm wrapped around my waist, and I’m leaning into his side, my legs are getting heavier with each step.
He stops and swipes a card through the door lock, making it click open. Together we enter the room, which looks more like an apartment. There is a large kitchen that opens up into a living room with a sitting area, huge TV, and even a fireplace.
“Wow, this is nice…”
My words are trail off when what I assume to be the bedroom door opens, and two familiar faces enter the room. Oliver releases me so Banks can pull me into his arms. He holds me tight for a few seconds, burying his face into my hair, breathing in my scent as I do the same with him. A calmness overtakes me, all the anxiety, fear, and sadness fading away.
He releases me and lets Sullivan have his turn. Sullivan circles my waist with his arms and hauls me up against his chest, giving me a bear-like hug.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers against my hair, his breath tickling the fine hairs on my neck.
“You saw me yesterday,” I giggle.
“That’s too long, we need to see you every day,” Sullivan replies thickly.
“Hey! I didn’t see her yesterday, so move along…” Banks complains, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Sullivan. “You look tired. Do you want to go to bed?”
The right thing to do would be to stay up and talk to them since I need to know what kind of evidence they have against my father, not to mention telling them about the things I found in my father’s desk and what happened with Shelby in the office.
There are so many questions that need to be answered, so many things that need to be said, but all I can think of doing right now is closing my eyes and falling asleep.
Exhaustion is winning out, and after everything, I need some time to rest my brain.
Nodding my head, I admit, “I could go for a couple hours of sleep.”
“Yeah, you look pretty tired,” Sullivan says, admiring my face.
“Thanks,” I say, laughing softly, “I have so much I want to talk about, but I’m dead tired. Like dead to the world.”
“Sleep, then we can talk.” Banks leads me into one of the bedrooms, and I fall on to the bed, the soft memory foam mattress swallowing me up as I sink deeply into the cloud-like material. A heavy blanket is pulled up to my chin, the weight of it against my body, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open.
I’m vaguely aware of Banks sliding into the bed next to me, and I sigh heavily when his arm snakes around my waist, and he pulls me back against his chest.
His warmth engulfs me, and with his steady breathing against my neck, I feel myself drifting off into the nothingness of sleep, wondering if when I wake up, this will all have been a dream.
Waking up the next morning, it takes me a few seconds to wrap my head around where I am. I’m in bed with not one but two of the brothers.
Banks still has his arm wrapped around me, his face buried into my neck. Oliver is lying on his side next to me, his brown eyes meet mine and hold my gaze.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. “It feels like it’s been an eternity since I last saw you, and all I can think to do to make the ache hurt less is be near you.”
I can’t help myself. I reach for him and watch with anxious butterflies as he scoots closer until our faces are only an inch apart. I can feel his hot breath against my lips. I want to kiss him so badly it hurts, but the hunger flickering deep in his eyes tells me that it wouldn’t stop with just a kiss, and we need to talk before we do anything else.
“What kind of evidence do you have against my father?”
“Milton recorded a meeting between your father and Xander Rossi, do you know who that is?”
“Yes,” I admit, a small shudder runs through me at the memory. “I recently remembered overhearing a conversation between him and my dad years ago.”
“Milton took a huge risk, but luckily your father never had a reason not to trust him.”
“Why is Milton doing this? How did he even start working with you?”
“He actually came to us,” Banks says sleepily from behind me.
“Sorry we woke you,” I say, twisting my head around to meet his eyes.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind waking up as long as you are in my arms.” Banks pulls me closer into him, and I can feel his hardened length pressing against my cheeks.
