Page 36 of Fractured Heart

He doesn’t respond. He carries me across the living room, like a repeat of earlier, when he pulled me wordlessly across the apartment. The only difference this time, aside from him carrying me, is that he’s heading toward his bedroom.

He doesn’t stop until we’re both inside. I expect him to leave in a repeat of earlier, but he sets me down gently and closes the door behind us. We’re both plunged into darkness and my heart pounds in my chest.

My breath catches as he takes a step closer, until I can practically feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. His huge form is bathed in moonlight, a beastly silhouette against the partially curtained window.

He reaches forward, but instead of touching me, he flips on the lights. I become even more aware of him. He’s close—too close. We’re alone in his bedroom and all I’m wearing are the silk shorts and tank top Tate got me.

The thin material grazes my suddenly taut nipples and I yank the bag of clothes I’m holding against my breasts to hide my response. Then, my gaze lands on Charles’s bed. His huge, king-sized bed. The grey silk sheets are thrown back from when Charles scrambled out of bed to come to my rescue. I picture spending the night in that bed, with him, and my knees wobble.

“The door locks,” Charles tells me, turning it. My eyes widen.

Then he unlocks the door and twists the doorknob. A second later, he’s gone, leaving me in his bedroom.

“Lock the door, Roonie,” he orders from the other side, and I do.

Chapter 19

I wake up smelling like Charles. That sounds a lot more exciting than it really is, since Charles isn’t actually here with me. He’s probably sound asleep on the living room couch while I’m stretched out diagonally in his huge bed.

Generously oversized sheets drape over me like a sensual embrace and I luxuriate in their silky smoothness. Music plays in the background, providing a dramatic instrumental backdrop to my morning. Charles’s phone, which he left charging on the nightstand, vibrates in time with the drums. It’s such a strange way to wake up, compared to my usual beeping alarm, but not in a bad way. It makes me feel like I’ve left the real world and entered a fairy tale.

In the dim morning light, the room looks like a fancy hotel. Not that I’ve ever been to one in real life.

Charles’s space is classic and sophisticated. It’s decorated in cool, masculine grays, from the silky sheets to the plush-looking rug and the thick drapes partially covering the window.

Over on the nightstand, the classical march continues. I reach for it and my ribs throb in protest. Nothing new there. I give it a few seconds and try again. Charles’s phone is sleek and expensive. I carefully tap to turn off the alarm.

As soon as the music stops, I become aware of the pouring rain outside. It drums against the window and for once I am glad not to be a student. I wouldn’t want to go out in that but luckily, I don’t have to. There’s no kitchen to clean, no breakfast to cook, and no laundry to do. For the first time in my life, I can stay in bed and sleep in. I snuggle into the pillow, inhaling Charles’s scent. Charles…who said he has class this morning!

I scramble out of bed, wincing in pain. How could I just turn off his alarm and go back to sleep when he’s going to be late because of me? What if Tate forgot to set an alarm? Or doesn’t wake him in time?

I rush for the door only to freeze when my fingers graze the doorknob. I don’t stop because I’m afraid of the roommate, JJ. Yeah, he might still be out there, still drunk from last night, but I know Charles will protect me. No, the reason I stop is my current outfit.

I feel practically naked as the silk tank top grazes my bare nipples and I’m not wearing panties under the thin shorts. I quickly change into the clothes from last night, uncomfortable lace lingerie and all. I try to ignore the twinges of pain around my ribcage as I dress and the fear in the pit of my stomach as I unlock the door. I make sure my necklace pieces are still in my pocket and give them a squeeze before I exit the safety of the bedroom.

I’ve learned to sneak past Father’s bedroom on silent feet in the early morning, but the gentle sibilance from the shower easily drowns out my footsteps. I try not to picture Tate lathering up his naked…nope. Not thinking about it.

I go wake up Charles, but there’s no sign of him on the couch. The blankets are neatly folded on top of the pillow and aside from my lone bottle of painkillers sitting on the coffee table, the apartment looks unlived in.

I turn back toward the bedroom when a door opens down the hall. JJ!

I break into a cold sweat. I’ll never make it back to Charles’s room without crashing into his drunk roommate. My only other options are hiding in the kitchen, diving behind the couch, or running out the front door. In my panic, I take a step toward one, then the other, unable to decide, when a voice rings out behind me.

“Coffee,” Tate mutters, flipping on the living room lights.

I spin around in relief, but if Tate thinks I’m acting odd, he doesn’t say it. Actually, I don’t think he notices. He’s dressed in sweatpants with the LUV Academy logo on them and a rumpled t-shirt. There’s something adorable about this cozy, comfortable version of Prince Charming that makes my heart melt.

He lets out a big yawn and tries to rub sleep from his eyes. It doesn’t work. He stumbles toward me like a zombie and I feel a wave of guilt. It’s my fault he’s this tired and the least I can do is get him the coffee he asked for.

“I’ll make some,” I cry, rushing into the kitchen. There’s a machine that looks like it might be a coffee maker, but I haven’t a clue how to use it. There aren’t any buttons just a tray where the mug is supposed to go. Maybe it’s automatic? I open the nearest cupboard, ignoring the pain in my ribs.

“Let me.” Tate takes the mug gently out of my hand. He opens a drawer, takes out a coffee pod, and shows me how to start the machine.

“Do you want me to make you breakfast?” I ask while the coffee maker does its thing.

Tate shakes his head and inhales deeply as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the apartment. “Charles and I have to get to class.”

“Right…” I nod. I knew that. “I could come with you. I don’t mean to class. I know I can’t go to class! But maybe I’ll…um…go for a walk?”