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Too late for that.
I feel like my heart might break if it isoverafter all this.
Elias hums, amused. “We’ll see how you feel about that in the morning. I imagine you’ll be sore enough after tonight.”
“Worth it,” I say, grinning at him.
He presses a kiss to my lips. “All right. Rest now, or you really will be suffering tomorrow.”
I nod. That is an order I’m more than happy to comply with.
There’s not really anything for me to get changed into. Neither my top nor jeans would be comfortable for sleeping in, and while I could sleep in my panties, those are utterly filthy from the amount I soaked through them earlier and frankly, I’d rather not. So, I drop my towel and crawl into bed naked.
Caelan cracks open an eye as the bed shifts. I lay down next to him, and he drapes an arm over my waist before returning to sleep. Elias joins us as well, pressing against my back.
I’m vaguely aware of the sensation of Elias’ lips grazing against the back of my neck, but the comfort of the pillow is like a siren’s call. I can’t hold it off any longer and sink into the bed, thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, drifting off almost immediately.
I’m worn out enough to sleep more heavily than usual, my normal body clock thrown completely out of whack. There’s always a point in the middle of my sleep cycle, usually in the early morning hours, when I blearily half-wake, uncomfortable in LA’s heat, and need to toss the sheet off me. This time, it’s already half-light when I finally surface back to consciousness.
It’s even more uncomfortably warm now that we’re sharing a bed. At some point, I roll over so Caelan can spoon me from behind, and he feels like a damn furnace pressed against my back. No wonder he hates the weather here. He doesn’t need that on top of his own heat generation.
I wriggle my way out of Caelan’s hold and drape myself over Elias instead, my head resting on his chest, grateful that he, at least, runs a fair bit cooler.
He wakes and glances at me, then runs a hand through my hair.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s too warm. You’re nice.”
It’s not the most coherent thing I’ve ever said, but Elias seems to understand.
“That’s all right,” he murmurs. “We’re going to have to leave soon. Unfortunately, we do have other business to attend to today.”
Right. The tour. They had one day off, but there are other shows they need to get to.
I groan softly.
The thought of moving right now is unbearable.
The thought of leaving them is unbearable.
“Go back to sleep,” Elias says, kissing my forehead. I don’twantto. Elias said they had to go, and I want to at least say goodbye, but I’m still too tired to resist.
I don’t even remember falling asleep for a second time. The next thing I’m aware of is light streaming in through the gap in the curtain and that I’m alone in the bed. For a moment, it makes my heart ache like a bullet’s been put through it.
A metaphorical ache, but there are plenty of literal ones too.
I moan quietly as I stretch out, soreness lingering in my muscles. In my everything. Goddamn. Yeah. I got fucked last night, and my body sure knows about it. But it’s a pleasurable pang, the kind that makes me feel like glowing.
My clothes are folded neatly on one chair, the key card for the room on top of them. A glass of water and a covered tray of food are on the bedside table. They ordered room service for me. That was thoughtful of them.
Despite waking alone, I don’t feel abandoned, and that makes me so much happier than it should.
Of course, I appreciate the gesture for more practical reasons as well. After the amount of exertion last night, I’m utterly starving.
I stay curled up in the covers and eat my breakfast, closer to lunch by this point, in bed, taking my time. Not so much savoring the food, although that’s good too, but savoring everything. Every memory of last night, of how they looked, what their touch felt like.
As much as I’d like to, I know I can’t laze around the entire day. The checkout time is generous but still approaching.Ugh.
Only after I dress and head to the mirror, intending to run my fingers through my hair in the hopes of getting it halfway presentable, do I realize there’s another issue. I don’t have anything to cover my neck with, and, oh boy, did Caelan leave hickeys. Deep purpling bruises against my throat. And even aside from those, there are little marks all over me. I don’t even remember getting half of them.
