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"Well, I wasn't," I retorted, crossing my arms and returning the glare.
Brandon scowled more deeply, but the fierce expression lessened as he realized what I was talking about.
"Oh," he said. "Shit, Red. I'm sorry." He looked back at me hopefully. "But now you can come back to bed, since it won't happen again tonight."
I bit my lower lip. "Wrong." I huffed out a sigh. "That was the second one tonight," I said. "And it's only two. Chances are there's going to be a third now."
Brandon frowned. "What?"
At his obvious confusion, I immediately crossed back to the bed and sat next to him. Like a magnet, his hand found my knee. Normally I never wanted to stop touching him, but I wondered if tonight I needed some space. He wasn't going to like what I had to say.
"Brandon," I said. "This isn't getting any better. It's getting worse."
The hand left my knee, and instead Brandon rubbed it over his face so he wouldn't have to look at me.
"It's fine," he said into his palm. "They'll go away. They always do."
"You've been saying that for over a month. They're not going away. They're getting worse."
He pressed his lips together into a thin line and glared at me. "They'll go away."
I huffed and stood up, grabbing my pillow.
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep in the guestroom."
I looked at the pillow, realized it was stupid to take and chucked it at the bed, only narrowly missing Brandon's head. He ducked, and his frown deepened.
"Skylar," he stared to protest.
"I need to get some actual sleep," I said. "And since you're not interested in doing what you obviously need to do to stop waking both of us up every single night with screaming fits, then I'm going to start sleeping in the guestroom until you do."
I turned and walked out, leaving Brandon sitting there with an open jaw.
I was just starting to climb into the bed in my former room when I heard his heavy footsteps shuffling across the hall. The bedroom door banged open, and his wide shoulders filled the frame. Naked except for his briefs, with his blond waves ruffled from disturbed sleep, he looked like some kind of deranged Viking. A very, very sexy Viking.
Unfortunately, I wasn't interested in anything else but sleep.
"What?" I spat from the bed. "Did you want me to stay awake?"
"What the hell, Skylar?" Brandon demanded. "You wake me up just to walk out on me? You said you weren't going to run anymore!"
"I'm not running! I'm in the next fucking room!"
"You belong in our room!"
"I woke you up to make you confront your problem––"
"I don't have a problem––"
"––and since you won't do that, I need some fucking sleep!"
Brandon slammed both of his palms into the doorframe and growled. "Goddammit!" he shouted. "Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?"
I looked at him like he was absolutely crazy, which in that moment, he was.
"I'm the one who's difficult?" I retorted, flinging back the covers so I could stalk toward him.
