I clamber back onto the bed and snuggle in beside him. Though still asleep, his arm drowsily winds around my waist to draw me close. He is so warm and sturdy, and I nestle my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. A sigh of contentment leaves my lips. And finally, I sleep.
I sleep, and I sleep.
And no nightmares come to haunt me.
17
FRICASSEE
KAT
Groaning, I roll over and glance at the clock: 10:32am.What?That cannot be right. I slept for over ten hours straight.
I can’t remember the last time I had done that. I’m in partial disbelief that my body and mindallowedme to do that. I lift my head and slowly look around, noticing that the other side of the bed is empty.
Glancing at my nightstand, I see a full glass of water, my cell phone, and my glasses all laid out neatly for me. A freshly picked bunch of coastal rhododendrons also lay among the items. They are the exact same shade of pink as the one I had found on the ground by the French doors a week ago. I had stuffed that one into one of my books to use as a bookmark, a habit I had adopted as a young teen. I smile, plucking them from the nightstand and carrying them with me as I get up.
Nice touch, Zayn. Nice touch indeed.
Entering the ensuite bathroom, I lay my flowers on the counter and look up into the mirror. I almost laugh at thereflection staring back at me. My hair is a dark tangle of what can only be described as a rat’s nest. But my skin, however? My skin is…. glowing. There is a fresh rosy color high on my cheeks and an unmistakable radiance coming from within that even the most expensive highlighter couldn’t replicate. It's that freshly fucked look.
I also spot several dark marks on my throat and peppered across my chest.Well, shit. I probably need some industrial-strength concealer for those bad boys.
After splashing some cold water on my face, I grab my wide toothed wooden comb and get to work on the mess that is my hair. A dozen images and memories of last night come flooding back in a rush as I work the comb through my raven locks. Zayn’s hands, his mouth, his dirty, filthy, honest words in my ear…
I lean forward, bracing my hands against the counter. I shake my head and mentally chastise myself, trying to regain some semblance of control over my wanton brain.
Ok Kat, you need to take a beat and pace yourself. So, you fucked him. Or, rather, he fucked you. That happened. And yes, it was magical and amazing and transcendent. But you can’t get ahead of yourself here. We don’t even know what Zayn is thinking or feeling. I mean, after all, he left, didn’t he? Before you even woke up? That probably means something. Like, that this isn’t a serious thing. A booty call maybe. The start of something uncomplicated, casual. And casual is what I need right now.
So, thank God it’s not that serious.
____________________
ZAYN
It’s getting serious.
That was the best fucking sex of my life. And we didn’t even come close to scratching the surface of what I knew we were capable of together. My mind replays for the thousandth time this morning her sweet moans and cries from last night, for me, all for me. The feeling of her velvety skin sliding beneath my fingers…fuck.
She was so amazing. So bold and so trusting. I had awakened in the middle of the night wanting her again. I looked down at her small form curled safely under my arm and kissed her forehead instead. She was so fucking sweet like that. Still, quiet, and at peace.For once.
Kat had desperately needed that sleep, and I couldn’t bring myself to deny her. I feel a warm and growing sense of deep affection unfurl within my chest. Like a wildflower blooming open in the sun, embracing life itself. If I was being honest, I was already in love with this woman. I think I’d always loved her. It was just coming into sharper relief now.
I pull out a long spiny weed from my mother’s garden and try to mentally prepare to tell Katherine about the cameras. I had disabled them before I went to Pearson House last night, but she still had the right to know they were there in the first place. I had promised her that I would be up front with her, after all.She will be pissed. But maybe if I kiss her just right, she’ll forgive me.
And as though triggered by that thought, another one drifts to the forefront of my brain.
That’s not all you’re not telling her,you fucking asshole.
My stomach grumbles with hunger, realizing I haven’t eaten since lunch time yesterday. I dispatch another massive weed and then grasp a bunch of green tufts, ripping a bunch of ripe carrots free from the earth.
These will go perfectly with my mother’s roast chicken.
And with another low rumble of my stomach, my plan solidifies. Everyone takes bad news better on a full stomach.
____________________
KAT
