I think about what I gave up for my sister, and I understand. When I look at her, still nibbling on her fingernail, she seems different. Or maybe it’s my understanding of Willow that’s changed. Maybe we’re not too dissimilar after all.
11
HUDSON
Anoise wakes me, and I strain my ears to listen for it again. Outside, the wind rustles the trees, and there’s the scrape of a branch against the roof. An owl calls in the night.
Dusk came early this high up the mountain, and I secured the perimeter with laser sensors before locking us in for the night. Now, I check my watch for any signs the perimeter has been breached, but the sensors flash green—all clear.
The noise comes again—a whimper from the loft.
I roll onto my side, ignoring the ache in my back from the hard floor. This time, the whimper is followed by a small cry and the rustle of blankets as Willow moves in her bed.
I slip out of my sleeping bag and creep across the cabin floor. It creaks with every step, and when I get to the first rung of the ladder, I expect Willow to be awake and peering down at me.
Instead, the whimper comes again, joined by a frustrated cry. She’s having a nightmare.
At the top of the ladder, I find her spread out on the bed, the comforter wrapped around her legs. Moonlight seeps into the room through the round window, bathing her in an unearthly glow. With her hair spread out over the pillow, she looks like a wood nymph.
She sleeps in an over-sized t-shirt that hugs the curve of her breasts. It rides up on one side to reveal white cotton panties and bare legs. One leg is wrapped over the comforter, and my gaze is drawn to her creamy thigh, the fine hairs catching in the light.
I stand over her, watching her sleep, unable to turn away.
In sleep, her features are soft. Her mouth parts slightly, and there’s a vulnerability about her. I glimpsed it earlier when we were talking on the couch. It’s usually hidden behind her sassy attitude.
Suddenly, her arms fling sideways, and her head tosses on the pillow. Her face crumples in distress, and she mumbles something. Her body moves in the bed, and she rolls over onto her other side, facing away from me.
With her comforter wrapped in her legs, her backside is exposed, and I try not to stare at the peachy curves of her ass. The fabric of her panties is so thin I can see the skin underneath. I can imagine the smoothness under my hand, cupping her cheeks in my palms, pulling her toward me…
She thrashes again and tosses in the bed, turning back to face me.
I shake my head as if shaking off a dream. Willow’s having a nightmare, and I’m staring at her ass like some horny teenager and not an ex-Navy SEAL who’s been trained in discipline.
Crouching beside her, I put a hand gently on her shoulder.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You’re having a bad dream.”
I shake her gently, and she shudders and murmurs something I can’t understand.
Her face scrunches up, and I run my hand down her arm, applying a gentle pressure. “You’re safe here, Willow.”
My hand trails over her wrist, and I clasp her hot palm in mine. She tenses, and her eyes flicker open—wide and vacant. When she scrambles to sit up, I drop her hand.
“You were having a bad dream,” I reassure her.
Her gaze darts around the room and rests on mine. Her eyes are glassy, half asleep, and she mumbles something before settling down in the bed.
“What was that?” As I lean close, I feel her soft breath on my cheek.
She doesn’t say anything else, but her hand creeps across the bed to find mine. Her fingers thread through mine, and a moment later, her breathing gets heavy as she sinks back into slumber.
I watch her for a long time. Watch the way her long eyelashes cast shadows across her cheeks, the way her chest heaves up and down with every breath, and the way her breathing becomes gentle and soft as she slides into a deep, peaceful slumber.
I steal a glance at her fingers threaded through mine, my rough hands and her slender fingers with paint under the broken fingernails, and my chest constricts in a weird sensation at the way she keeps her hand in mine, even as she sleeps.
12
WILLOW
