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“Want to, for sure. But I think we need to get up.”
“Nah. We can spare like ten minutes.” He lays down before I can protest, bringing me with him so I end up lying flat against his chest.
His hands are on my lower back, and my head rests on his chest. So much of us is touching that it is nearly maddening. The sound of his heart is dancing against my eardrum, soft pitter-patters and whispered promises of dozing off into a potential dreamland.
“This is nice, right?” He trails his fingers up and down my spine.
It is.
It really is.
My eyelids are lowering as exhaustion tiptoes into my mind.
This …
I could seriously get used to this …
All the touching …
The connection …
He gradually rotates us to the side, moving slowly and lining us so we’re face to face. Then he tucks an arm underneath my head and drapes an arm around on my waist. We’re so close our foreheads are nearly touching.
He doesn’t close his eyes, raveling a strand of my hair around his fingertip.
“I feel like we should fall asleep like this every night,” he murmurs with his gaze locked on mine.
“Except it’s not night,” I remind him, fighting the urge to shut my eyes.
“It should be considered night … the sun’s not even up.”
I crack a smile. “I guess we can pretend.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. For a few minutes, anyway.”
He unravels the strand of my hair from around his finger then spreads his fingers across my cheek before lowering his forehead to mine. “Okay.”
His breaths are feathering across my face as he remains that way, his head lightly touching mine. It’s a peaceful moment, but I’m not sure if I can fall asleep or not. Not with him so close. Not with me just wearing my shirt and underwear. Not with the sound of the banging coming from one of the other rooms.
“What is that?” I whisper.
“Zay taking out his anger issues on a punching bag.” He quietly sighs. “So much for falling asleep.” He gives a short pause then slants back, his eyes lighting up. “Wait. I have an idea.” He starts to move away from me but briefly stops. “Just stay like that, okay? Don’t move.”
He waits for me to nod before untangling his legs from mine and sitting up. Then he gets out of bed and walks over to one of the bookshelves that has a stereo on it. He powers it on, collects his phone from a charging dock, and scrolls through what I’m assuming is his music collection.
Moments later, “Cough Syrup” by Young the Giant clicks on, and it overpowers the sound of Zay punching the bag.
When Jax turns back toward the bed, I’m smiling. He smiles right back and starts toward me. I try not to stare at the scars on his chest, not wanting to ruin the moment, but my gaze drifts toward them a few times. He either doesn’t comment or doesn’t care as he climbs back into the bed. Then he stretches across the mattress, tangles his legs with mine, tucks his arm underneath my head, and lowers his forehead against mine so we’re lying just how we were before he got up.
A few lyrics pass by, and we just sort of stare at each other. I should probably close my eyes—that was this point, right? He said he was still tired. I’d yawned. He said we should sleep for like ten minutes. And I’d been close to dozing off. But now he’s here, lying in front of me, just staring at me with his pretty haunted eyes, playing with my hair.
He doesn’t look like he’s about to fall asleep. He just looks content. And the music, it’s flowing around us and whispering at my mind to listen instead of go to sleep.
Listen, Raven.
Listen to your heart.
