I take a chance. “We might sleep better together.” I pin her with my gaze though her eyes are hard to read in the night.
“I’ve no doubt. It’s whether we would do any sleeping that I question.”
Direct. I like that. “Fair. What if I promise to be on my best behavior?” I don’t smile because I don’t want her to think I’m joking. I’m not. I just want to be near her.
“I can’t make that same promise.”
Direct again. I stand now and touch her cheek, curl a lock of hair behind her ear and rub her satin earlobe between my thumb and forefinger. She leans into my touch instinctively, then reaches up to wind her arms around my neck. I don’t hesitate. I lift her off the ground and her legs curl around my hips.
“We’ll be good. Your bed or mine?”
“We’re always good. That’s the problem,” she counters but still presses her lips to the pulse in my neck.
“Just to sleep. Pick one, Everly. Yours or mine?” She wants this, too. Her body screams it, but she shakes her head.
“I have guests.”
I’m already moving toward the cottage, placing little kisses on her cheek, behind her ear, her neck.
“I’m serious, Julie. We can’t.” She pulls her head back from my lips but makes no attempt to unwrap her legs from my waist.
“M-hm.” I lower my forehead to hers, still moving toward her cottage door. “Then talk to me. Please, Everly. I can’t . . . I don’t know how to walk away from you right now. I know we need sleep.” I sigh and snake one hand into her silky hair, curling my fingers around her nape. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not sleeping knowing you’re here within reach and not next to me.” I release my grip so her legs slide down mine until her feet meet the mat at her doorstep.
Her palm lands on my cheek as her head lolls to the side.
Placing her index finger to her lips, she cracks the door and listens. Silence. She swings it wider and steps inside. I follow without a sound. The house is dark except for the dim light above the kitchen sink. She picks up a piece of paper on the bar, reads the note scribbled on it and sets it down. I peek over her shoulder.
If you need us, we’re here. Just come in. ~LB
Glancing around in the muted light, I soak it all in, feeding months of curiosity. It’s simple, clean, quaint. She takes my hand and moves silently down the short hallway. I stare at the closed door we pass for a couple pregnant moments. I want to ask the question but I don’t. I twist my neck and look back at the empty couch.They’re all three sharing one room?
She opens her bedroom door, pulls me inside and quietly closes the door. She slips the straps of her romper off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. I’m watching her, not moving. She turns and reaches for my shirt, slides it up my torso and off my head, then slips it over her head. It falls to just below her ass and nothing has ever looked sexier.
Reaching for my hand, she leads me to the adjoining bathroom and hands me a new toothbrush from the drawer. She quickly brushes her teeth and begins twisting her hair up in a knot. I brush my teethand follow her back into her room. Peeling back the duvet cover, she slides between the sheets, holding the top sheet up invitingly. I slide in beside her. She turns her back and snuggles her ass into me like muscle memory. Sliding one arm under the pillow her head rests on, I snake the other around her body and pull her tight to my chest. My lips caress the back of her neck and, inhaling her scent deeply, I wonder how I ever slept without her the last seven months.
“God, I’ve missed this.” She reaches up and curls her fingers around the back of my neck, pulling my lips tighter to her skin.
True to my word, I don’t kiss her. I just leave my lips on her for the contact. We’re touching from head to toe. Every cell in my body remembers this and exhales with me. My limbs grow heavy like my breathing. “Talk to me, Ever. Tell me about your life.”
The sound of her voice pulls me back.
“You first, Julie. What have you been doing for the past seven months?” Her words are slow, heavy with drowsiness.
“The short answer? Lots of therapy.” My body is drifting, letting its guard down. It’s been too long.
“I’m proud of you.” She yawns.
I’m going under fast. My eyelids droop.
I love you.
Chapter 23
Everly
Stretching like a cat, I yawn and blink against the light streaming in.I forgot to close the blinds last night. LAST NIGHT!I pitch forward, sitting up, and swing my head back and forth around my room. My empty room. I zero in on the piece of paper on my nightstand—the note Lilly left on the bar last night. Except it’s Julian’s handwriting on the backside of her note.
Snuck out before guests woke up. Best. Night. Sleep. Ever. J
