It’s now after midnight and I need to work tomorrow, so I decide I have to get myself together.
I let the water drain out, dry off with luscious towels, and put my pajamas on.
I then climb into Killian’s bed, which smells like I recall him smelling when he hugged me back at the apartment the night I met him.
And for some reason, as if I don’t have a care in the world, I fall asleep almost immediately.
***
I jolt awake gasping. The bedding is shifting.
Is Killian climbing into the bed beside me?
He is.
He crawls under the covers and I scoot away. His breathing immediately evens out. I don’t know what to do. Why is he in bed with me? I lay frozen, in the massive bed thinking he sleep-walked. He climbed in to where I was as if I wasn’t even there. Should I get up and go sleep on his couch? I bite the inside of my cheek. If I do, he’d know what he did in the morning and it’ll be a whole awkward … thing. Like things aren't awkward enough between us.
If I’m right about why this happened – just some sleepwalking – he’ll probably be embarrassed. What if I just…instead… pretended not to notice. Maybe he’ll wake up first and just slip out of here.
Maybe he wouldn’t mention it because he’d be embarrassed, and I can pretend it didn’t happen. I inch a little further away, thinking that he’s likely always as cool as a cucumber and probably hasn’t been embarrassed in his life when a strong, warm arm wraps around me and yanks me back into a wall of muscle and heat.
Oh God! I’m being spooned by Killian Coulter. I feel the heat of his bare chest through the thin cotton of my pajama top.
He cocks his leg over me, and there’s a steel rod against my tailbone. Not a steel rod. A steel-hard Killian. My eyes bulge in the dark and I haven’t a clue what to do here.
So… I don’t do anything.
He flexes his hips against my backside and groans as he inhales my hair. Goosebumps erupt all over me. His mouth is against my bare shoulder.
He makes an "Mm" sound, and it vibrates straight through me. I squeak involuntarily as his big, strong hand glides across my hip, heading down my stomach, his fingers slipping just into my waistband before he goes completely still. Time stands still for a long beat and not only do I hold my breath, I’m pretty sure my heart stops beating momentarily. He snatches his hand back and I lose the heat of him as he slides away.
“Shit,” he whispers. “Fuck. Sorry.” He rolls away and grumbles, “I was asleep.”
He leaves the room, closing the door hard.
A minute later, I’m in the bathroom, the door locked and my back against it. God, my heart is racing.
I use the toilet and then wash my hands while I stare in the mirror at my eyes which – right now – look too big for my face. I am just … shocked. That was awkward.
I’m also parched, but I am not going out there for another bottle of water and chancing that I’ll run into him, so I cup my hand under running water and take a few mouthfuls before going back to his bed and finding myself back on his obviously preferred side of the bed. And it’s extra warm. And it smells so good. So good my face goes hot at the memory of him spooning me.
For a minute, I dare myself to indulge in a little fantasy.
What if I were his girlfriend?
What if I were safe from Ray because Killian kept me that way forever?
What if I spent my nights in this beautiful, comfortable bed after cooking him meals in that pretty kitchen, being held by him, being wanted by him, being touched by him? Using Star Wars chopsticks and having him twirl my curls around his index finger, calling me baby…
I squirm, feeling that my underwear are slippery with arousal.
I shake it off.
I can’t think this way. It isn’t right. I’m a marker. I don’t even know how dangerous he is. Ray seemed pretty fearless most of the time until all this. Until Killian. I’d seen Ray get into arguments with people over parking spots. Ray once got possessive when a guy looked at me and the guy was bigger than he was. Ray never hesitated to puff up his chest and stand up for himself with other men. But Ray looked downright scared at the apartment tonight.
Scared to death. Of Killian.
Killian put the fear of God into Ray. And threatened him. Bodily tossed him onto the couch. The angry face on him would stop anyone cold, but Ray looked like he was gonna piss his pants.
This is a business transaction. It doesn’t matter that he’s been nice to me. He feels pity for me because Ray treats me bad. This isn’t anything other than a business transaction. And I have no earthly clue what’ll happen to me in two weeks.
If Ray pays, I still have to find a way to get rid of Ray.
If Ray doesn’t pay, I have to wonder – what happens to me?
And what will happen to Ray?
If Killian ‘disappeared’ Ray the way Ray insinuated all these years his childhood friend is prone to do – will that make me an accessory if I don’t report Ray as missing or tell the authorities what I know?
Could I live my life knowing Ray is missing, not knowing if Killian did something to him? And will Killian allow someone to have the knowledge of him potentially doing something like that?
I toss and turn for a while and then I find the fatigue taking over, so I snuggle in, pretending that I’m being spooned.
After a long while, I find myself with a smile, my crazy thoughts taking me to a place where I’m thinking that maybe someday, a long time from now when I’m ready, I’ll look for a guy to spend my life with that spoons me at night, cocoons me in his embrace and makes me feel safe. Like this.
And then … I’m not conscious of anything until the bongo beat of my phone’s alarm alerts me that six thirty has arrived.
***
This room is a beautiful place to wake up.
I blink the sleepiness away, in awe, at the way the light dapples across the space through the texture of the blinds that are open partway.
The sky looks beautiful.
I throw the covers back and walk to the window to look out.
It’s looking like a crisp morning and I know it’s windy by the slight rattle out there as well as the fact that a burnished leaf floats by. One of the few left, signaling winter is ready to fully settle in. Probably any minute.
And then I smile because I’m not in my little apartment with Ray sleeping, snoring up a storm. I can wash and blow-dry my hair today.
I slip into the bathroom, use it, and then take my toiletries bag with me down the hall into that guest room so I can use the shower there where I left my big duffel bag with all my hair stuff and makeup.
But when I step into the bathroom, I’m greeted with steam and an almost naked Killian Coulter.
He’s drying off and has the towel in front of himself, but I can see both hipbones and most of the rest of him – other than the pelvic area behind the towel.
I screech in surprise as I face his bright green eyes, his inky wet hair, and the expanse of muscle on display.
I spin away.
“I’m so sorry!” I scurry out of the bathroom.
Not five paces away, my wrist is shackled by his grip. Not roughly, just to halt me.
“Hey. It’s okay. We didn’t discuss the morning routine, so I decided to shower here since you were asleep.”
“Sorry,” I don’t meet his eyes. I stare at the ceiling. “I figured most of my stuff was in here so I should get ready in here near my clothes and figured you’d want your own bathroom. Plus, you left the door open…”