If I speak, we’re both in trouble, so I slip past her, too close, close enough to smell her honeysuckle scent, and lock myself in the relative safety of this shitty bathroom.
I start my second shower of the evening. The water is cold. Freezing. On purpose.
It does nothing to calm me down, and I hiss with pent-up need when my fist wraps around my cock. Is this what it was like being around her as a teenager? Wanting her? Tasting her? And losing my goddamn mind because the very last thing I should do is fuck her the way I want to?
Her voice filters through the door, so I force my thoughts away from my cock and remove my hand. Pausing to listen, Iknow she’s checking in with her friends, but I don’t like the idea of her out there all alone either, so I rinse off and get out.
When I finally leave the confines of the bathroom wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, I’ve lost all hope of appearing casual. Especially when I find her already in bed, stiff as a fucking board.
“Hey,” I say to ease the tension that has no place between us.
My gaze zeros in on the column of her neck as she swallows. “Hey.”
I turn off the lights and plunge the room into darkness. Just the faint glow of the motel sign shines through the thin curtains, and she sucks in a heaving breath.
Fuck. The lights. Fumbling in the dark, I turn on the bedside lamp. “Sorry, I forgot about the lights.”
I climb into bed, leaving space between us, even as every instinct I possess screams at me to close the distance.
“It’s okay if you want me to switch rooms with Chief,” she says sadly. “No one can sleep like this.”
Her file said she didn’t have many serious relationships. Is this why?
“Honeybee, I’ve been through worse. If you need lights to sleep, then I’ll buy a sleep mask if necessary.”
She doesn’t respond, so we lie there, not touching but hyperaware. I’m fucking miserable.
“Clover?”
“Yeah?” She has the sheet tucked up under her chin.
“Thank you.”
I’m becoming addicted to her sharp intakes of air. “For what?”
“For today. For—” How do I explain this without sounding like a twat? “For giving me back one of my firsts.”
I keep my gaze on the ceiling, even when I feel her roll toward me.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember my firsts. First kiss. First love. First time—” I run a hand down my face. “The memories aren’t there. But tonight—” My throat tightens painfully around the words, as though it’s a sin to say them. “Tonight, it felt like you gave me back an innocence I wasn’t sure I ever had. The fact that it was you, both then and now, is more than I could have ever hoped for.”
The silence is deafening as her mind works through my words.
“Thank you for encouraging me to do it,” she says.
But it isn’t enough.
I can’t stand the distance, so I shift to face her, and she smiles like she’s been waiting for me to join her.
“Valen?”
“Hmm?” I say, settling my head onto her pillow.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
I find her hip and rest my hand on it, pulling her a fraction closer. “Me too, Honeybee.”
