We kiss more and before the needy voice can return in my mind–or my vagina, I pull away. Wren follows as I sit up, grabbing the hairbrush before he moves to sit behind me; one of his long legs resting next to me and the other hangs off the bed. He starts running the brush through my hair, gently teasing it through any knots.
“I’m going to get a shower quickly once I’ve taken care of you and then you’re going to stay here in my bed.”
I lift my legs up to rest my head against my knees, smiling into them like some absolute love struck idiot. I've relentlessly told Phoenix not to bother me with this man for fifteen years–hes going to have a field day.
I forget to reply and he nudges me with the hairbrush in my waist, right in the spot I’m most ticklish. Laughing, I push gently at him with no malice, resting my head back onto my knees as I watch him twirl the ends of my hair.
“No one’s ever done this. Taken care of me like this.” I say shyly, feeling him pause against my hair, then the brush of his lips against my shoulder as he places a kiss there.
“You shouldn’t settle for anything less. Honestly, this is all new for me too. I really like it, and seeing you happy settles something in my caveman brain.”
We both chuckle, Wren resumes brushing. It all just feels so right, like a bird floating back into its family's nest where it’s always belonged.
“Your caveman brain sets a good standard. I demand you brush my hair every time I bathe.” I joke, turning my head slightly to look at him. He wears a delicate smile.
“Deal. It means you have to keep me around. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.” His words have a clear underlying message.
“I’ll give you a trial run, Wrenny Baby. See how you get on.”
That gets a laugh from him and it's like music. The faint sound of rain still hits the windows, but I feel so far from reality that we could be anywhere in the world right now. The Tiffany lamp casts a warm glow onto our bodies, and it highlights Wren’s sharp jaw and the way his muscles flex with each movement tending to my curls. He leans over my hunched body and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“I’ll take my chances—best trial run of your life coming up.” Throwing a wink at me, he rises from the bed and I don't hide the way I greedily soak him in. He has the odd gaps of pale flesh, but the entire package is perfect. No wonder fans go feral over shirtless pictures of him on Instagram. The comments are unhinged.
Moving over to his suitcase which still isn’t unpacked like my own, he digs around and produces an oversized, well-worn striped shirt and two pairs of boxers. Laying them on the bed, he picks up the items scattered and smooths back his curls which have fallen into his face.
“I’ll be really quick in the shower, Lovely. You’re more than welcome to stay naked, but if not, there is a tee and underwear for you.”
I thank him with a dopey smile. Winking at me again, Wren disappears into the bathroom but leaves the door open. As I hear the shower turn on, I shuffle down the bed to grab both items of clothing. Slipping the boxers on which are loose on my hips, I don’t stop myself from inhaling the t-shirt which smells deliciously like him. Sandalwood and mint. Happily putting it on over my head, I debate whether I should wait for him to finish showering before getting into bed.
I’m still pondering to myself as I pull back the covers, lay my head down on the soft pillows and with complete ease, fall into a blissful slumber as the rain taps at the windows.
Chapter nineteen
Wren
LASTnight was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten, probably in my entire twenties. It’s all thanks to the beautiful writer who still occupies my bed, curled up like a tiny cat in my pillows. Robin was dead to the world after I showered, so I pulled her onto my chest and she buried her face into my neck. She didn’t move for the rest of the night. Ghostface could have burst into the room and put an end to my life, and I wouldn’t have moved an inch; her soft body clinging to mine in her subconscious would be the perfect way to go. I don’t know if she’s aware, but she talks in her sleep. It isn't just little mumbles or inaudible noises, the woman has full-on conversations about the most random things I’ve ever heard. She needed to know where I stood on aliens inhabiting the earth, pretending to be members of society with stolen human suits. I didn’t get any sleep because I was too busy soaking in her presence like it could be our last; hours later she laughed and asked me if I thought fish became bored of being wet all the time.
Honestly, I think I’m in love with her. I’ve never met someone so carefree and completely content being themselves. She doesn’t care to slot into boxes or even go along with the lifestyles of her friends. She offers out her friendship with no expectations and as someone constantly overthinking the connections I have with others, it’s fucking refreshing. Her reactions and words are never fake.
Before leaving her in my bed—despite it being the last thing I ever want to do because I’d handcuff that woman to me if I could, she pushed her face into my pillow and told me that she loves the way I smell. The entire time I quietly got dressed and headed downstairs, I contemplated how I could ensure she became equally obsessed with me by using my scent. By the time I’d gotten down to the kitchen and started up the coffee machine, I’d made a solid plan to sneak into her room and spray all of her belongings with my aftershave. That way she’ll think about me constantly and therefore fall madly, head over heels with me before we’re allowed out of this hotel.
Smirking like a villain, stroking my metaphorical cat whilst my mastermind plan comes together, I wiggle my hips and take my coffee from the machine. Adding a little oat milk from the fridge, my limbs ache a little because I wrapped myself around Robin last night in a little cuddle cocoon, so I still haven’t stretched. I’m a tall guy at six foot four; if I didn’t work out and gain muscle, I’d probably just be all gangly arms and legs.
Chugging my first coffee like someone has a gun to my head, I pop the mug under the machine again, checking the kettle for water and turn it on, hunting for another mug to make Roo a cup of tea. Taking care of her feels like second nature already and I like it a lot.
For the briefest of moments I just stand there in relaxed bliss, my mind quiet for once. The sky is already grey outside and the rain is relentlessly lashing on the roof of the orangery. Whatlittle light filters into this room leaves it tranquil and I bask in the calm.
Loud curses over the hiss of the kettle break me out of my spell, the profanity continuing from somewhere on the ground floor of the house. Frowning, I leave our drinks unattended and move through the quiet house towards a raised male voice. I don’t fully enter the main dining room, but I linger in the doorway and watch as Merle wrestles with the gauze-like material hanging loose between this room and the conservatory, stepping away rubbing his temples.
“I’m so fucking sick of these drapes getting in the way this entire weekend. Where is the tie?! Surely something as simple as a curtain tie cannot vanish into thin air.” He spits through his teeth, like he’s completely losing his temper. I’ve never even seen his patience falter, let alone raise his voice.
My eyes fall to the other figure in the room and it’s Phoenix, but he looks broken. Sitting at the end of the long dining room table, he’s curled in on himself, one elbow resting on the table as he pulls at his wild hair. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, still in the clothing he wore last night, and he’s clearly been crying. His eyes are dull and red-rimmed, almost sore-looking. His mouth is open, no words come out before Merle grabs a chair with both hands at the other end of the table, knuckles white on the wooden tall back.
“Letting your brother plan our opening weekend was the worst decision I ever let you agree to. This was meant to be our big first week and now look at things. On top of sorting all this mess out, you’re acting like a petulant child. I understand you’re upset, but after everything you kept from me, how dare you take advantage of the help I offered you. You’ve lied to me our entire relationship and I agreed to move past this with you.” He looks down at my best friend with disgust. Yes, that’s actually disgust turning his lip up as Phin silently sits there tense, tears rollingdown his cheeks. He flinches as his voice rises higher, and I’m moments away from stepping into the room to get between both men. “What you’ve done could get me into so much trouble and you don’t even care!” His voice rings out into the vast room and I can’t stop myself, stalking forward like a reaper here to claim my latest soul. The way his tone makes Phin submissive isn’t missed; it reminds me of the way Dad used to hurl insults at Mum as she’d beg on the floor for him to leave. Both situations blur into a red mist that darkens my expression, and blinking doesn’t deter them from each other. I couldn’t protect anyone as a small boy, but I sure as shit can now. I couldn't give a fuck that I’d wrapped Phin in bubble wrap. He is a brother to me; blood or no blood, that never mattered.
“What the fuck is going on?” I say, voice cold as I try to puncture the red haze. I don’t address Merle, but his demeanor changes into something less menacing, like he hadn’t just been popping a vein at his own boyfriend minutes ago.
Phin sits up straight in the chair, rubbing at his face and trying to remove his tears with the cuff of his shirt. “Wren, god—it’s nothing. We’re just trying to sort things out.” I don’t believe him for a second, because the man I only know as a giant teddy bear was looking across the table at his ownlovelike he was a vile stranger. Pointing a finger at my best friend's shaking body, I look at Merle, head slightly tilting as I feel myself close to losing my shit. Is this how they talk to each other when we're not around?
