I want to smack my forehead. The last thing she needs right now is her horny, adopted-brother-slash-friend making a move on her.
After a while, she calms down, and I risk asking, "What happened?"
But she shakes her head against my chest.
Eventually, her breathing slows, and she is falling back asleep. I maneuver her back under the covers, and I stand up to go to my bed when her hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist.
"Don’t go!"
I glance back at her. She looks so small.
"You need rest, Lilly." I consciously use her name this time; I don’t want another slip-up.
"I know." She pauses. "Please stay." The last two words are barely audible.
I freeze at her request, heart pounding in my chest. She makes room but remains propped up on her elbow, holding my wrist with her other hand. I shouldn’t, but this may be my only chance to be close to her. My head is telling me to go to bed, she’ll be okay, but my heart wants to stay and comfort her. I stare down at her, and neither of us makes a move.
Fuck it.
I climb in and pull the cover over both of us. Without a word, she curls into my chest, and only seconds later, her breathing evens out. She is tucked under my chin, and I can smell remnants of her coconut shampoo. Carefully wrapping my arm around her, I make sure it’s above the covers to avoid something inappropriate happening in my sleep.
At this point, anything is possible.
As I start to drift off, I think about how I’m going to give in to my selfish side only this once, but before I even finish that thought, I know deep down that’s not true.
If she asks me again, I’ll cave.
Chapter Sixteen
I’min the foggy state between sleep and awake. That point when reality slowly seeps in but you’re technically still asleep. When the fog starts lifting, awareness crashes down on me with lightning speed. I can’t move.
What the—?
Arms are wrapped around me, and instant panic sets in. I’m about to fight when I get a whiff of Rhys’s signature shower gel scent, and the events from last night come flooding back. My body immediately goes still.
The nightmare. No, not nightmare—memory. I’m sure of it. The most vivid—and worst—one yet.
I remember when I came to, all I saw washimsitting on my bed again. I had to blink several times to comprehend it was Rhys in front of me, not him. My clothes were drenched in sweat, and I had no control over the violent tremors wracking through my body. Not wanting to be a victim anymore, I fought the urge to cry, but at that moment, I was six years old again. All I wanted was my best friend—exactly like it was ten years ago, which this memory revealed to me as well.
After my flood of tears subsided, I felt calmer, but then Rhys attempted to go to his bed, and my insides were gripped with terror.I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alonekept running through my head. Instinctively, my arm shot out and locked onto his wrist. "Don’t go!" I’m sure he could hear the quiver in my voice. The internal struggle was visible on his face even in the dark, but then he slid into bed next to me, and...I was safe.
Lying here like this, wrapped in this safety cocoon, my head tells me I should be embarrassed. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay. I should’ve been stronger. Rhys has a girlfriend—maybe a fake one, but a girlfriend. The voice in my head hurls one accusation after the other at me, and I cringe inwardly. It’s all true, but when I am honest with myself, for the first time in weeks, I feel completely and utterly safe.
I relish that sensation a moment longer before I slowly ease out of his arms, and Rhys flops on his stomach. I look down at him, grateful for his presence on this trip, and head to the bathroom to wash last night’s grime off my body.
As I stepout of the shower, I hear the alarm go off and Rhys scrambling out of my bed to his phone. I finish getting ready and step back into the hotel room, finding Rhys sitting on his bed. His arms are resting on his thighs, head hanging low, and shoulders visibly tense. My steps slow.
"Good morning." I announce my entrance tentatively, hoping he doesn’t feel weirded out after last night. I broke down in his arms for the second time in three weeks. We never established new boundaries after his love declaration. I’ve been too preoccupied with myself and have completely ignored his feelings.
"Hey." He looks slightly more at ease when he sees me, and his posture relaxes, but there is still a wary undertone. I brace myself for him to say something about what happened, to ask questions, but all he does is get up and duck into the bathroom. "Let me get ready, and we can hit the road."
Avoidance it is. Works for me.
We’ve been drivingfor two hours in complete silence when Rhys finally asks the question I’ve been waiting for.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He keeps his voice at a whisper as if not to scare me.
I’ve been facing the window, thinking about exactly that since we left the hotel. Do I? Since last night, all the rage and betrayal has been replaced by the desperate need for safety. The safety I felt waking up this morning. I know this can’t last. I need the other emotions to see this through, not to be a victim. But at this moment, the need to be anchored wins. I take a deep breath. "I had a nightmare." After another long inhale and exhale, I turn toward him and add, "I think."