But Grayson wasn’t stupid. “I don’t know what happened, but we’ll deal with it in the morning. I’m too tired for girl drama.”
There wasn’t much left to say. I’d said my piece. Kenna pouted and closed the door to her room. She was upset. But so was I.
Grayson glanced at me, a frown marring his lips. “You okay?”
I nodded, rubbing a hand over my arm.
“Good, don’t wake me up again unless the house is on fire.”
My lips twitched. “Got it, boss.”
Grayson shook his head, dragging himself back to bed.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, bracing my back against the wall and dropping back my head. I had two options here. I could continue with my plan, sneak into Brock’s bedroom, or I could retreat to my room and wallow in misery, anger, and the shitty fucking hand I’d been dealt in this thing called life.
There was also the little concern that Kenna might rat me out if I go through with spending the night with my boyfriend.
Unfortunately, I was at the point of not giving a shit. Everything that happened today was too much, and the only way I’d be able to cope with any of it was by being surrounded by Brock.
I strode down the hall. Unlike Kenna, I didn’t knock at his door. Enough commotion had gone on in our hallway tonight, and although the Edwards’ bedroom was on the first floor of the house, I didn’t want to risk any more unnecessary noise.
The bedroom door clicked softly shut behind me as I stepped into the room bathed in absolute darkness. My bare feet were silent as I crossed the room, only the whizzing of the ceiling fan blades cutting through the air made any sound.
Slowly and hesitantly, I made my way across the room, careful not to bump into anything. After a few seconds, my eyes adjusted, and I could make out a sleeping form on the bed. Hints of his scent drifted in the air, luring my feet to move quicker.
He had his back toward me, lying on his side with one leg out of the covers. This was his favorite way to sleep. My eyes ran over the tattoo on his back, and I itched to trace over the lines, to feel his warmth under my fingertips.
As I drew to the edge of his bed, I could see rather than hear the soft even rhythm of his breathing, his back falling and rising. My knee pressed into the mattress as I slid my hand over his back and around to his flat abs. Curling up beside him, those muscles trembled under my touch.
Brock’s hands snatched onto my wrists, surprising me. He lifted them off his chest, a low rumbly groan moving through his chest as he said, “Kenna, I told you—”
“Does this feel like my sister?” I murmured, taking his earlobe in between my teeth. “And do I want to know why you would think I was her?”
“Firefly,” he growled for entirely different reasons. A shiver went through him as I grazed my tongue over that sensitive spot on his ear. All the tension in his body vanished, and I almost felt bad for grilling him. Almost. I wanted to hear his explanation.
He twisted around, his arms gathering me up and pulling me firm against him. My heart twisted in my chest. It seemed as if I wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. “I literally have been sitting here thinking how long I would have to wait to sneak into your room.”
“Is that so?” I replied quietly, a smile touching the corner of my lips. “Don’t try and change the subject. Why did you think I was Kenna at first?”
His brows drew together, and his body tightened for a second before relaxing again. “She came to my room a few minutes ago.”
Giving in to the earlier urge, I let my nail outline the tattoo inked onto his arm. “Why?”
He shrugged, his hand resting on the small of my back. “For something that isn’t there.”
“Would she have any reason to believe there might be something between you?” I pressed. My insecurities wanted him to assure me that nothing was going on with Kenna and him.
His forehead pressed against mine. “Not from me. We were never like that. I thought I had made it clear that none of it was real.”
The fact that my sister had tried to sneak into my boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night left a bad taste in my mouth. What kind of person did that? I understood that Kenna and I didn’t know each other well, but she damn well knew that Brock and I were together. I wasn’t giving her any fucking free passes.
She and I would have a proper talk tomorrow. I wasn’t sweeping this under the rug and pretending it didn’t happen. Not my style. She might be used to manipulating people with her pouty lips and innocent eyes, but that shit didn’t work on me.
The playfulness that I’d been feeling dissipated. Brock noticed. “What’s wrong?” His hand softly brushed along my cheek.
My gaze met his. “Nothing. I couldn’t sleep either.”
“Are you having nightmares again?”