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Her toe begins to tap nervously, and she gulps.
I let out a slow breath as she shivers. “He won’t be able to bother you in here.”
She gulps again, but this time her bottom lip starts to quiver, and her eyes begin to shine with tears.
I look at the door and then back at her. I really need to sleep. It’s past midnight, and our first show is tomorrow. I’m overly drained, both mentally and physically. But what I need more is for Sophie to feel safe. What I need most is to be here for her now that she’s finally asking me to be.
I shake my head. I can’t do it.
I can’t leave her alone.
Running my fingers across the stubble on my cheek, I take a deep breath. “I’ll stay.”
Her shoulders rise and fall heavily as she stands and begins gathering the pillows from the sofa.
I glance around the room. There’s one door for the bathroom, but no bedroom. It must be a studio apartment, but I don’t see a bed.
I start to ask, but then she’s pulling a lever on the shelving above the sofa and it’s swinging down to reveal a Murphy bed. Rent isn’t cheap in New York, especially here on the Upper West Side. She’s smart to use her space well.
Except, that means the sofa is now gone. And there’s only one bed.
She sits on the edge of the mattress and chews on her lip, watching me cautiously. She sees the dilemma too.
I meet her gaze and then look at the floor. “I’ll figure something out.” I’ve slept on the floor before. When I was like fifteen. At a friend’s house.
This is like that. Right?
She turns her eyes to the expanse of her queen-sized bed. She scoots over and pats the empty space. “Take this side.”
I raise an eyebrow. It’s the last thing I expect her to suggest. “Sophie… Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomf—”
“You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable,” she interrupts, crawling under the covers on her own side. “Not in that way, at least.”
I stare at the empty space. It looks about a thousand times more inviting than the floor, but I’m torn. The battle between respect and comfort rages in my head. “You’ll sleep if I’m here next to you?” I ask tentatively.
Sophie regards me with her tired eyes, pulling the comforter up to her chin. “As long as you promise you’ll stay?”
Her expression is so gentle, so timid, so vulnerable. She’s a slave to her fear and anxiety. I can’t deny her. So, I nod and lay down on top of the covers. I settle my head on the pillow, close my eyes, and pretend I’m not mere feet away from her in this bed. I can’t remember the last time I slept in bed with a woman I didn’t have sex with. This is so out of character for me, but I’m starting to figure out that I’ll give this girl anything if she asks.
***
The next time I open my eyes, morning sunlight is filtering through the curtains at the window. It takes me a moment to recognize my surroundings, but the warmth next to me is a quick reminder.
Sophie is still asleep. She must have moved closer during the night, because her head is on my shoulder. Her red hair is sprawled out on the white pillow, and her long eyelashes lay gently on her cheeks. I want to turn my head and kiss her perfect forehead, but I just smile and close my eyes, enjoying the moment while it lasts.
I’ve imagined drifting off next to Sophie so many times before. Of course, in my daydreams, we’re usually wrapped in each other’s arms and completely spent from a session of steamy lovemaking, but this was intimate in a different way. The fact that she invited me into her bed makes it all the more shocking.
I try not to wake her, but she must sense a change because she rubs her eyes and lifts her head.
I run my fingers through my hair and my knuckles scream at the movement. “Good morning,” I yawn.
Her eyes go wide, and she sits up fast, scooting away from me on the bed. “I’m so sorry.”
I push myself up too and stretch my joints. “For what?”
“For…um…” She looks at the spot where we just laid. “I must have rolled toward you in my sleep. I’m so sorry for making you stay.” She stands up and walks to the window, peering between the drawn curtains. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her curled hair sticks out at odd angles. It’s adorable.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “You weren’t in a good place last night. I wasn’t going to leave you alone if you were afraid.”
