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No man hasthe right to feel as weightless as I do in this moment.
Wynn grips my hand tightly as we hurry back to our room with our towels feebly wrapped around us. I feel like a criminal with the way she’s acting; it’s exhilarating.
The second we get to our room she shuts the door and locks it.
The grin that crests my lips makes the cut on my jaw sting. “You know people fuck in there all the time. You walked in several times just this week.” I laugh as I pull open a drawer and fish for a pair of boxers. She grabs one of her nightshirts, but I have a different plan.
There’s a large black shirt lying at the bottom of my drawer that she’d look perfect in. My cheeks warm at the thought of her wearing it.
“Hey… you should try this on.”
I toss the shirt at her and she barely catches it. Her brown eyes are wide and warm when she unfolds it.
“You’re giving me this?” she says cautiously, eyeing me like it might be a prank.
“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t suit me, you know?” I lie, hoping she won’t catch on to the sentiment behind that shirt.
It was a gift from Neil and I cherish it. Even if I never see her again after our time here. But my heart tells me that Wynn won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, at least not anywhere I’m not.
She pulls the shirt on and it falls to her mid-thigh. Her cheeks blush and she looks up at me shyly. “How does it look?”
I walk over to her and brush her wet pink hair over her shoulder. “Perfect.”
She fake scowls at me, and God, her smile is enough to ruin me.
“Do you think they’ll tell the counselors what we were doing in there?”
I think it’s cute that she’s so innocent. She thinks they give a shit what we do once they’re off the clock? Or even on the clock, for that matter.
“Wynn, we’re roommates. I think they know what people do behind closed doors. I kind of think they expect it, to be honest. Part of thetreatment.”
She wrinkles her nose like she’s in complete disbelief at this place.
“Well, let’s get your jaw patched up. It finally stopped bleeding,” she says with a bit of a sting.
She’s mad at me, and I don’t blame her.
Her fingers are soft and gentle as she applies the ointment to my cut. The burning slowly fades, leaving that incessant itch in the back of my mind that wants more of it.
She makes quick work of my jaw, and then we slip into my bed and I hold her. I run my fingers through her hair and press kisses to her forehead.
“Remedium meum,” I whisper with my lips coasting her skin. Her hair smells like lilacs. I pull her against my bare chest. Her legs are warm. I can’t remember the last time my heart was this full, and my mind this at peace.
She scoots in closer and kisses my throat gently. “Dream of me.” Her voice is low and sleepy.
I hold her tighter. “Only you.”
* * *
Saturdays are my favorite. Sleep in, take a walk, drive aimlessly. Who knows what the day holds.
But we have plans today. Tattoos.
My phone vibrates relentlessly and I groan as I roll over to snatch it off the nightstand. Who the fuck is texting me this early?
Mom:
Your brother is visiting.
