“I don’t need a lecture, okay.” I snapped. “Nobody will just let me be sad. It’s exhausting.”
He shot me a long look, brows crunched with concern, and then went back to digging through my clothes. “I don’t see any pajamas in here?”
“That’s because I didn’t bring any.” I closed my eyes and admitted shyly. He wasn’t supposed to be home! I wasobviouslygoing to change the sheets when I left.
Carter’s gaze snapped up to mine, sharp and assessing. “Fuck, Sara.” He muttered. “Here, you can wear something of mine.”
He opened a different drawer, grabbed a few things and approached the bed. “Come here, drunkie.” He crooked his finger with an amused smile.
I sleepily crawled over to him on all fours, and he swallowedhard, taking a nearly imperceptible step back. Or maybe I imagined it. The room was still moving in waves.
“Here.” He handed me the clothes and stared at me for a beat before finally turning around.
I struggled to peel off my wet dress, grunting as the clingy fabric rolled, catching around my shoulders.
“Sara, please.” His tone was sharp.
“Huh?” I mumbled from inside my wet dress prison, my arms stuck above my head.
“Stop making those noises.” He begged. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not makingnoises.” I gritted, finally wrenching the dress free and flinging it across the room. It landed on the floor with a wet plop.
I pulled on his old football t-shirt and the blue striped boxers he’d set out for me. It was kind of crazy, actually. I’d imagined wearing his number more than once in high school, and here I was about to sleep in it. Hehe!
When I was done changing, I couldn’t help but stare at his back. He was fidgeting, and every smooth line of muscle was rippling with his impatience. There were several scars I’d never noticed before, and I felt compelled to run my fingers over their raised edges, but I didn’t.
“Done.” I sighed, climbing into the silken sheets.
He turned, gripping the back of his neck as his eyes darted around. “Do you need anything else before I head downstairs?”
“Are you getting a snack?” I perked up, actually feeling hungry for once.
“I was going to sleep on the couch.” His lips quirked. “Are you hungry? I can get you something.”
“Why wouldn’t you sleep here?” I frowned, patting the bed next to me. “This isyourbed, after all.”
“Sar,” His lips parted and then he didn’t say anything for a good minute as he dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What about the other bedrooms?” I asked, not wanting himto be downstairs while I was upstairs. I’d honestly been a little spooked in this enormous mansion all by myself the last few days.
“They’re not made up.” He said so quietly his breath was just a push of air.
I hated that he’d always had the power between the two of us. It sucked. “Carter?”
His eyes were soft, nervous almost. “Yeah?”
“Don’t leave.” I asked, giving him my very best sad eyes. His jaw flexed as he looked towards the door and then back at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly for a long while. “Please.”
“Okay.” He finally conceded with a nod. “I’ll stay.” Slowly,carefully, he slid into the sheets next to me, and turned off the lamp. He left ample space between our bodies, threading his hands behind his head while he stared at the ceiling, wide awake.
I smiled to myself and stared athimin the darkness until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Such a nice profile, perfect for drawing—sharp jaw, strong nose, full lips, long lashes. Why did guys always have such long, beautiful lashes? What a waste.
I was almost asleep when Carter let out a heavy sigh. “Tomorrow we are going to have a serious conversation about the fact that you went out alone and got drunk.” He paused in frustration. “Not to mention literallynobodyknew you were home.” His voice caught. “Sara, if something had happened.”
I inched a little closer to the heat radiating from his side of the bed. “Carter?”
He answered softly, turning onto his side to face me. “Yeah?”
