Page 134 of Made Better Together

“One day we’ll tell the world, soon, I hope. In the meantime, we’ll keep figuring out everything together.”

“I want that too. I—what he said…I can’t wait until we don’t have to be secret anymore.”

Knowing I can’t make any promises yet on that front, I lean down to claim her lips. One thing I can give her.

With that conversation behind us, and knowing my brother is gone for a few days, I realize I can claim Eden for another day.

She thankfully agrees. I vow internally to make her forget the whole Rawley incident.

We both have practice, so we split for a few hours, but then she brings her books back to the condo.

This evening doesn’t have flowers and hot tubs in the mix, but it’s almost better.

She sneaks her legs onto my lap as she does her homework, and I rub her feet while studying the parts of the playbook relevant to me.

Domestic bliss. If only we could make this our normal.

38

EDEN

The next morning, I tiptoe into the kitchen, the first streaks of the sunrise lighting my way. I don’t want to wake Connor as I claim a cup of cold brew.

He’s still asleep when I return to his bedroom. Mission accomplished.

I sit down on the wicker chair in his room and scroll on my phone, sipping on my drink. No need to wake him yet, with twenty minutes before I have to leave.

These two days with Connor have been amazing, but I’ve got to get back to reality at Tolliver. I tried to do my Genetics reading while we lounged on the couch yesterday but kept getting distracted. I’ve got at least thirty pages to go, and the class is in five hours.

I’m scrolling through an email from my professor with feedback on my capstone project, when a moan comes from the bed.

“Nooooo.”

I look up, and Connor’s shifting under the quilt. “No!” he repeats, now as a shout.

“Connor?” I set my glass on his dresser and approach him. As I near his side, he bolts up in a sitting position.

“No.” He exhales one last time. His eyes are focused on the other side of the room, but I’m not sure if he’s looking at something or getting his bearings again.

“Are…are you okay? I think you were having a nightmare.”

He blinks twice, then his shoulders slouch, and the alarm that painted his face disappears.

“I’m…fine.”

But he doesn’t seem like it. I take a seat beside him on the bed. “Are you sure?”

He grabs his glasses from his nightstand and then peers up at me through the lenses. “I’m…”

“You…that’s the second rough wake-up you’ve had with me.”

“It’s…” I stay silent, letting him finish. “You’re right. You probably need to know.”

He doesn’t elaborate and I’m worried. “Know what?”

Appearing fully awake now, he rests his hand on my leg. “Let me freshen up in the bathroom, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I need a Red Bull for this.”

I nod and grab my stuff on the way to the breakfast table in the other room. Five minutes later, he emerges from the bedroom.