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“Spray it on my pillowcases.”
I snort. It sounds like she’s thought this through.
“I like your bed,” she mumbles before I can respond to her previous statement.
Will she remember any of this in the morning?I press a kiss to the crown of her head.
“I like you in my bed.”
My confession hangs in the air and I wonder if she’s fully awake now. A beat of silence passes before I hear soft snores once more. She must not have been entirely conscious then. I’m not sure if it would be good for her to remember this exchange in the morning, she might melt into a puddle of embarrassment.
I, however, am going to hold onto this for years to come. As I fall back asleep I do the grounding technique I taught Juliette for her anxiety, except instead of using it to calm down, I’m using it to catalog every detail of this period in time. I can hear the wind in the trees, Juliette’s soft snores, and Murphy’s loud ones down the hall. I feel the brush of her blonde hair over my skin and the way my heart is beating to a new rhythm just for her. I commit it all to memory, because I don’t want to miss a thing.
Chapter twenty-eight
Juliette Monroe
Isquintintoaray of morning light as I wake up. My eyes feel dry, but when I go to rub them I’m frozen in place. Because my hands are tucked between my chest and a warmman'schest covered in a white t-shirt. Slowly, I tilt my head back to look at Adrian’s face. His usual stoic features are softened by the peace of sleep.He’s beautiful.Dark lashes fan out against his cheekbones, his jawline is strong and sharp, and his slightly parted lips are full and devastatingly tempting.
And I’m in his arms right now. In his bed. Nerves bubble up my stomach and into my throat, but they go from a roiling boil to a simmer when Adrian stirs and pulls me closer, burying his face in my hair. I melt into him, closing my eyes again to bask in the hazy glow of this sweet moment. He wants me here.
It’s only when I take a deep breath in that the memories of what I said the night before come rushing back. It feels like someone threw me into the frigid lake outside. A horrified gasp catches in my throat.
I told him I was going tobuy his cologneandspray it on my pillowcases. What iswrongwith me? If I blame it on my concussion, will he believe me? Suddenly, I’m too hot. I need air, space,somethingto help me calm down. With all the care I can manage in my frazzled state, I slip out of his arms and roll out of the bed.
I snag my phone off the nightstand and tiptoe out of the room, praying that the alarm to tell him to wake me up isn’t for a little while. My poor nerves need a second before seeing him again. I shake my hands out like there’s water on them as I walk down the hall.
Murphy doesn’t stir from his spot on the couch when I slowly slide the back door open and step out onto the porch. I suck in the crisp air, thankful that it’s still cool in February and hasn’t shifted to spring just yet. The urge to actually jump into the lake is overwhelming. If I didn’t think I’d get hypothermia, I just might.
Eventually, my body cools and my heart rate slows.It’s not so bad,I tell myself while pacing the length of the deck. If he thought I was a creepy stalker girl he wouldn’t have been holding me in his arms like that. The hairs on my arms stand up as I recall the feeling. With as many details I’ve collected about him and the conclusions I’ve made, I wouldn’t have expected him to be so affectionate.
This new little fact about him has my mind whirring, turning my thoughts into a projector screen that flashes through images of him being the kind of man who’s attached. The kind of man who doesn’t believe inpersonal spacewhen it comes to his girl. He’d wrap his arms around me while I was making tea and pull my legs over his lap on the couch because sitting next to each other wasn’t close enough. Our kisses would be the kind where we’d only break apart once we were gasping for air…
A scalding blush heats my face and neck. Coming outside in the cold was smart because I’m burning up. I shake my head and try to think of the night before and what all was said. My memories of our conversation are fuzzy. It feels like trying to do a puzzle while missing half the pieces.
I like you in my bed.
The words curl around me like the sweet smoke of a blown-out candle. Did he really say that? Am I misremembering? I bite my lip. All I seem to have are questions, with no answers to accompany them.
The cold starts to set in and I return inside, shivering. Adrian’s apothecary cabinet catches my eye, so I walk over to it with the intention of snooping until he wakes up. His tea collection is a sight to behold. Each drawer I open reveals several different teas, and above the apothecary is a series of floating shelves with lines of tea tins. It’s possible that he has more tea than me.
I’m studying the packaging of a pumpkin chai blend when I hear the sound of a car pulling up. But for the first time maybe ever, my stomach doesn’t clench at the sound. It could be the growth I’ve experienced lately, but I have a distinct feeling that it has to do with the man sleeping down the hall. He makes me feel safe.
I set the tea down on top of the cabinet and walk over to peek out the window. Maybe one of Adrian’s siblings came to check on me. It wouldn’t shock me if Grayson made an impromptu visit. He seems like the type to love surprises.
When I pull the blinds down it’s not Adrian’s driveway that has a new occupant, but mine. Parked behind my car is a silver sedan with a rideshare company logo on the windshield. Though I know I’m safe, I can’t help but be a little nervous at a random car appearing in front of my home.
The back door opens and a familiar head of cinnamon-colored hair pokes out of the sedan. I gasp and drop the blinds, rushing to fling open the door.
“Caroline!” I shout and her head whips toward me. She pushes her sunglasses onto her head and grins at me.
We meet in the middle and slam into a hug. She smells like peppermint and the best parts of my childhood.
“I missed you,” I say as I pull back. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you when you said you got a concussion so I hopped on a red eye flight to get here.” She looks me over. “But judging by the lovestruck glow all over your face and the fact that you walked out of your hot neighbor’s cottage … I didn’t need to worry at all.”
“I slept at Adrian’s because the doctor recommended someone watch my concussion symptoms overnight.”
