Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Summer

What the hell just happened? And how did it all go… like it did? I need… space - or more of what I had in the kitchen and I’m not talking about the noodles even though they were delicious.

“So, I put you in the bedroom right beside mine. It connects to mine by the bathroom. If something happens just yell. I’ll leave my side open so it will be easier to hear you.”

“Uh, Roan… I don’t have…” I wave my hand over myself.

“Oh yeah. I, uh, laid out one of my shirts and some boxers I used to wear when I was like twelve so hopefully they fit. Remember, if you need anything just… yell.”

He backs out of the room leaving me in silence and the echo of all the lies I’ve been telling. So many lies. And what was that in the kitchen, before we started eating? I sit heavily on the bed and think about how good a kisser Roan Atticus is. He is certainly good at it so I’m betting he’s had a lot of practice. It makes me wonder…what would have happened, and where we would be if I had known what I was doing.

It’s not like I go around kissing just anybody but… would it have been different if I had have at least done it once so that I knew what I was doing? I flop back and stare up at the ceiling. How far would I have let it go if I wasn’t so damned inexperienced? How far would Roan have taken it?

Even when I crawl into bed wearing only the shirt Roan gave me, I can’t stop thinking, I can’t stop wondering, what would have been if only. That and the fact I can’t sleep because I am in a new place which always feels weird to me, only makes the over-thinking and second-guessing worse. By the time three rolls around, I am so exhausted from all the tossing and turning and playing armchair detective that I throw the covers off and slip from my borrowed bed. If I continue to lay, I’ll go mad.

I tiptoe the way I think we came up the stairs when Roan was leading me here and try to be as quiet as I can, so I don’t wake him. The last thing I want is to cause him problems and ruin his night because I am having the worst case of insomnia known to man. The kitchen looks completely different in the dark. All the homey atmosphere that seemed to define the room when me and Roan were in it, seems to be gone.

Now it looks like an empty promise. Dark shadows swirl around, and I can barely make out the little bar stools that are in front of the island that we just sat on not hours ago. I start stumbling my way to the fridge when I hear something that makes me pause to see if I heard what I thought I heard. My heart starts beating harder as I hear it again.

Something is moving around close by, and I realize I’ve done the dumb thing girls in horror movies do. I bebopped into a dark room all by my lonesome in only a thin shirt and a pair of panties that wouldn’t cover one of the horror movie monsters’ eyes. And my dumb ass trooped right into the very room where all the sharp objects are kept. Way to go, dumb ass!

I start backing up slowly just trying to get to the stairs again when I back right into a big solid body. I open my mouth to scream but a wide hand quickly covers it so the only thing that comes out is a muffled sound that does me no good. Damn it!

I’m pulled back even tighter to the hard body. My heart thuds all the way up into my throat and I try hard to pull myself free. Warmth blows across my ear when a familiar voice reaches me.

“What exactly are you doing down here?”

My body automatically slumps against him, and I am only being held up by his arms. I start talking but it only comes out mumbles because he still has his hand over my mouth. Instead of simply taking it away so I can speak, he moves it so that he is cupping my chin. He turns my head so we can look each other in the eye.

“I… couldn’t sleep.” Damn, it sounds like such a cliché when I say it out loud.

“So, you decided to come into the dark room full of knives in your fucking underwear?”

Yep, even he realizes how stupid it is. I think of the only defense I have.

“I’m not in my underwear… I’m just in panties. Wait, that didn’t come out right. I mean, I’m not JUST in panties, I’m wearing your shirt… over the panties.”

Damn, it just seems to get worse the longer I try to justify it.

“So basically, you came downstairs because you ‘couldn’t sleep’ in your boyfriend’s shirt and nothing else but a scrap of what, lace? Silk?”

“Boyfriend?”

I become hung up on the word and miss the path his hand is taking. When I feel his big palm cup me between my legs, I not only jump but let out a soft squeak too.

“It seems to be lace.”

“Oh my God! Roan! You did not just… to figure out… Oh my God!”