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“Yeah, when you first started here you were such a grump. All work and no fun, couldn’t get you to bite at any of my jokes. You spent all that time working in the dark on nights like a vampire. Now you’ve come to the day shift, buying us pizza, and even,” she fake gasps, a hand over her heart, “you make jokes with us. You’rehelpingus. We’ve bloomed you.”
I stand up, ready to toss her my credit card and get the hell out of here, but my eyes catch on Lainey. I focus on her smile, the warmth she radiates, the silky hair that tickles my face when I sleep.
I’ve spent most of my life in the dirt, living in perpetual darkness, thinking that darkness and damp earth was all there was. Then one day, she came along, brought me to the surface, and I felt the sun on my face for the very first time. The way she’s cracked my chest open and burrowed her tiny body into my heart is so unexpected, so surprised, I didn’t realize at first how I was changing. But now that I know what it’s like to be the one to make her laugh, the one she brings coffee to during a shitty day, the one she let into her life after years of being alone … if I’ve bloomed, it’s because I’m staring at the source of the brightest sunshine right in front of me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ryan
My legs thrash under the weight of my sheets, unable to find any position that feels remotely comfortable. The last time my sister visited, I gave her free reign with my credit card to purchase whatever I needed to make it “not look like a lonely serial killer” lives here, as she so lovingly put it. I nearly fainted when I saw she somehow managed to spend twelve hundred dollars on sheets alone. They had been comfortable enough, but right now, they suck.
They suck because they aren’t cream-colored with a tiny floral print on them. And they don’t come on top of a plush bed with the most beautiful girl wrapped up tight.
I haven’t been able to sleep on those sheets since last weekend. Lainey was floated to a different unit for her last few shifts, so I don’t even have the chance to steal kisses behind closed doors. She pushes herself to the brink of exhaustion, which is something I plan to talk with her about real soon. The idea of her working herself to the bone, surviving on little sleep, not eating enough, none of it sits right with me. Somehow, shefound a way to sneak a Tupperware container of cookies into the bottom drawer of my desk. She’s always thinking about me when I should be the last person on her mind. But damn, does it feel good.
I’ve had a burning restlessness inside all week. After a full day of work, I’ve been hitting the gym to press out reps on the bench press until I can’t breathe, and it still doesn’t help. The last three nights I’ve been lucky to get a few hours of sleep combined.
Swinging my legs off the side of the bed, I stand, grabbing the nearest sweatshirt to pull on as I stalk to the kitchen and swipe my keys from the counter.
My entire body trembles on the drive to her apartment. Maybe it’s from the cold, maybe it’s because I’m almost physically sick from exhaustion.
Maybe it’s because I feel like an idiot driving to her place in the middle of the night.
I don’t bother calling, because she never sleeps with her phone on if she’s not on call. What will she think, of me showing up unannounced? Will she see me as the fucked up, clingy guy from work that doesn’t understand what’s going on in his head? The one who’s trying to tell her what he feels even though he doesn’t know how to say it?
I park my truck outside her door, looking up at the side of the building, only seeing the darkness radiating from her apartment. I opt for the elevator and spend the five flights with my head resting on the wall, nearly dozing. I’m halfway to her door before I stop and think about what I’m doing.
It’s pushing midnight. She’s sleeping, I’m sure of it. I can picture exactly what she looks like—her beautiful hair falling in waves over her pillow, breathing gentle puffs in a deep sleep. She probably isn’t wide awake and at war with her emotions like me.
With a frustrated exhale, I turn to leave. A few steps down, and I stop myself again. “This is fucking ridiculous,”I mutterout loud, reaching both hands up to the clasp behind my neck, stretching my head up and back, trying to relieve some of the built-up pressure.It’sLainey. She would welcome anyone, any time, for any reason.
Turning again, I take the last few stairs up to her apartment door. Pressing my ear to the wood, I listen for sounds that she still might be awake. The apartment is silent, as expected. Hesitantly, I knocked a few times, still wrestling with the demons inside my head.
Silence.
After a few more seconds, still no response. I push my palm into my eye until bursts of light hit.I should just head home. Maybe I could shower, make a hell of a strong pot of coffee, and go to work early. The thought crosses my mind to curl up in a ball on the carpet in front of her door. Sure, creepy as hell, but at this point, I’m too tired to drive back home and some part of me knows that being in closer proximity to her will make everything better.
I don’t know how long I stand there, debating my next move when the sound of a deadbolt turning springs hope and I spin around. Lainey opens the door—toned legs in tiny sleep shorts, a baggy soft sweatshirt, messy hair falling around her shoulders, eyes squinting in the dim lights of the hall.
Shit, she was asleep.
I hesitate for a moment, an apology or explanation or something on the tip of my tongue, but without hesitation she reaches out for me, her hand gesturing for mine. A pained exhale comes from my chest, and I walk over and grab her hand, letting her lead us back into the darkened apartment.
She doesn’t ask any questions. No small talk is made. It’s as if she knows exactly why I’m here, even whenI’mnot sure.
I shed my clothes as we walk to her bedroom. She crawls back in bed, lifting the blanket on the opposite side for me. I happilyclimb in next to her and move over to wrap my arm around her body. She pulls me in tight, securing my arm around her waist, and wiggles into every nook and cranny of my body. I’m hit with the now familiar scents of her herbal shampoo, the fresh cotton of her bedding, and the lavender shit she sprays on her pillow. I relax piece by piece, the jagged edges that make up my body finally falling to form a smooth line.
“How’d you know?” I can’t help but ask. She had to be dead asleep.
“I just knew,”she mumbles.
I let out a long, shaky breath, finally so fucking content, so relaxed. I hold her tighter, and in no time, hear her breathing even out as she falls back asleep. With my arms wrapped tightly around her stomach and her legs tangled in mine, I realize the scariest truth of my adult life.
I’m in love with her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lainey
