Dahlia Aldridge
“Get some sleep, princess,” King’s voice brushed across my ears as my body was set down in my soft familiar bed. I clung to him, my arms firmly wrapped around his neck. As he finally detangled my grip, his chuckle was soft and sexy. When he kissed my forehead, I mumbled his name, hating that he was leaving me.
I honestly couldn’t tell you if I was sleeping or awake when that happened. Instead, my consciousness drifted between the land of sleep and reality as I sorted through a series of dreams that were like sex dreams for my emotions.If that made sense.They were perfect fantasies.
In one of them, I was on a yacht, except instead of being with just Yates, all of my boys had been there, even Stratton. Also, Dermot… but I wasn’t positive what to do with that. The dreams easily melded into each other, one after another, all peaceful and clearing my mind of anxiety as memories of past vacations shifted into possible future ones.If my future was what I could only dream of.
Still, whether it was a reality or not didn’t matter to my mind and heart. I was just thrilled that I was finally able to sleep, solidly, for the first time in weeks. When I finally woke up, it felt like I was coming out of a heavy fog. My eyelids were almost sealed shut with sleep, and I was wrapped in a cocoon of cool-to-the-touch bedding. There was an honest part of me that was tempted to not get up, to stay in bed all day… until I remembered why my alarm was going off in the first place.
I stuck a hand out, feeling around for my phone and turning off the wind chime sound. Muttering a curse, I stretched and my joints cracked, the early morning light penetrating what looked to be a somewhat rainy day. To be fair, we were in the middle of hurricane season, and while I wasn’t directly on the gulf coast, that did make for a lot more rain as the storms dissipated on their northern paths. Something I loved and hated equally. Loved because they were fun to watch, hated because the lack of sunshine usually meant I couldn’t be outside doing something entertaining with my day.
Sunday morning.
Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled this weekend was nearly over, because let’s face it, it hadn’t been very kind to me… but man did it feel like it was over quickly. I sat up slowly, looking down at my outfit from the night before which was still on, looser and more wrinkled than before, stretched from my tossing and turning. No doubt my hair was a complete mess and my makeup smeared. I felt—and probably looked—just as rough. As much as I wanted the boys in my bed, I couldn’t deny that I was thrilled they weren’t seeing me like this.
Not that they would want to be in my bed… well, except for the twins. And Stratton. You know, I really should just ask them how they felt—it would clear a lot of things up. I scowled at that.Yes, Dahlia, because not only will you probably screw that up by blurting out something awkward… but also potentially break your heart if you realize they either just view it as a physical thing or don’t see you like that at all.
I always felt like I was starting and ending at base one with this issue.
My eyes widened as I stripped the pillow that had been under my head, the soft cream material stained red from where my head had been pressed against King’s shirt. Crap. I had no good reason for explaining that, and I could practically smell the blood that was matted in my hair. Something that should have terrified me.
Instead, I found it sort of sexy… like they’d bathed me in the blood of my enemies. Sorry, not sorry, but I found that attractive. However, that did lead me to the question of how I had gotten here… did King carry me back? I had to assume so, although based on the note next to my bed, I think it may have also been Yates.
Stay in bed and sleep today, bunny. - Yates.
So bossy.
That was now one hundred percent the last thing I wanted to do. Honestly, the man should know me better than that by now… then again, he was smart enough to realize I would never miss a rugby match for the twins. As I went to go text him, I frowned, realizing my phone had just died, so I plugged it in, trying to remember the last time I’d charged it. I tried to use it as little as possible so I could be honest in saying I often forgot.
Stumbling towards my bathroom, I scowled at the stunning room and bright sunlight that was filling the space. Shimmying out of my skirt and yanking off my halter top, I turned on the steam shower and let out a groan of relief as I stepped into the hot jets. My eyes closed as I tried to not dive down the mental rabbit hole of sorting through everything that had happened yesterday, from Abby threatening me to the boys nearly killing Greg. What a hot mess.
Hopefully I could find a small break today. I just wanted to enjoy watching the twins play sexy rugby and maybe have a movie night later. Easy peasy.
Despite everything going on, a weird sense of authentic happiness and excitement ran through me, which I knew largely had to do with my guys. Something seemed different, and not just the twins kissing me, although that had been amazing. My tongue darted out before I frowned, realizing that both Lincoln and Sterling’s tastes were gone from my lips… any chance I could get a kiss at the match? From both of them? Talk about drama.
After a long, soothing shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and dried off completely before braiding my hair into two long french braids. I kept my makeup simple, only shading my eyebrows lightly and swiping lip gloss over my slightly chapped lips before going to get dressed. My eyes moved towards my scale momentarily before I fought off the urge to weigh myself, knowing that the alcohol I had last night would probably just psych me out and give me an inaccurate and panic-inducing weight. I refused to let today be about that.
As I sorted through my clothing, the sound of rain started up, a light patter that had me looking at the gray skies. It didn’t look like it would storm, but I decided to pick a pair of leggings and an oversized heavyweight rugby jersey with the twins’ last name on it. The colors, a black and bright red, stood out against my flushed face and I slipped on a pair of dark red Hunter boots before making my way downstairs.
I knew I was up far too early to head to the game, but I wasn’t surprised to find that my parents were absent from the house. They had probably gone to church this morning.
They had never insisted that I go with them once I had gotten older, but I still felt a bit guilty about missing. I wasn’t a spiritual person, generally. I just did my best to be a good human and compassionate towards others. Honestly, I just didn’t feel like I knew enough to decide on one religion, so I had taken an interest in most of them.
Outside of photography, it was actually one of my favorite things to learn about. World religions, and more specifically, the places they are practiced. What I wouldn’t give to go around the world, photographing famous religious buildings and monuments. I mean, could you imagine standing in Myanmar, staring up at theLaykyun Setkyar? Taking pictures of the intense detail and labor that went into creating such a massive depiction of Buddha? Or traveling to Rio de Janeiro and standing witness to the thirty-eight meter tallChrist the Redeemer? I knew not everyone had the opportunity to travel, and I craved to be the one to capture those outstanding moments so that everyone could experience that level of awe.
I just had no idea where to start. Why would anyone choose to look at my photos? Hell, I wasn’t even positive that I could capture them correctly. I swallowed uncomfortably, feeling my sense of joy being strangled out by the notion of not being good enough. It was like a constant beat underneath my skin. One that I was really growing tired of.
Humming to myself, I made a cup of coffee before stepping out onto the porch to look over Wildberry Lane, the silence of Sunday seeming to coat the entire place in a hazy sleepiness.
Some weekend mornings, I would find the twins playing basketball in their driveway, but today it was silent, making me wonder if they had an early morning warm-up practice before the match. Instead of going to grab my phone or Kindle, I sat down on the porch and took a moment to just relax. I didn’t get very many quiet moments, and while I would prefer them to be filled with my boys, there was something nice about just taking a moment like this to breathe.
Except, as I slowly drained my coffee and the lights flickered on in my brain, I found myself overthinking what had happened this weekend. What would the others think if they found out I’d kissed the twins? Or how Stratton had admitted to being attracted to me? I let out a slow exhale as I tried to shake the feeling of being overwhelmed.
My lip dipped slightly, wondering if I was more invested in all of this compared to them. It wasn’t like Lincoln or Sterling had confessed an inkling of emotion towards me, not the kind I had for them. So for all I knew, maybe they were just wanting to get laid, and while that sounded appealing, I just didn’t think I could do that and walk away without a broken heart. I had never imagined losing my V-card to a specific one of the guys, more like all of them… but it had always been with one of them.
My throat tightened, wondering who they had slept with. There was no way men like them were virgins—I mean, they were freaking stunning. That just didn’t make sense. All too soon, as I was finishing my cup of coffee, my parents’ sleek BMW pulled into our driveway and parked out front. I steeled my emotions, not wanting them to see that I was somewhat upset by my train of thought. Plus, while I had never told my mom directly, I had a feeling that she was well aware of my feelings regarding the guys.
I mean… I wasn’t exactly fantastic at keeping my emotions under wraps. I had absolutely no idea what I would do if she ever confronted me about them, though.