He suddenly sits up and takes my hand, tugging me out of the bed and into the dark. I trip over my feet and nearly pitch forward, but he has a good hold on me. We’re walking quickly, cutting through his bedroom and out into the hall like we’re on a mission. I can barely keep up with him. We fly through his house until he suddenly comes to an abrupt stop outside of a door. He whips it open and flips on a light, motioning for me to enter. I walk tentatively into his study, taking in the rich dark decor. I wonder why he’s brought me here. Yes, sure, the room is beautiful. The desk itself is tidy, just like the rest of the house. Impatiently, Ben steps in and rotates me until I’m facing the wall across from his desk.
Immediately, my mouth drops. There, hanging on the wall, spanning at least five feet in either direction is a glossy painted reproduction of the Hubble Ultra-Deep Field, the same image I had hanging in my trailer, the same one I have by my bed back at Caltech. The painting is as tall as I am, detailed and intricate. The artist did such a beautiful job recreating the iconic photo, but before I can step closer, without a word, Ben takes my hand again, whirling me back toward the door.
I’m laughing now, begging him to let me go back.
“I just want to see it up close. It looked like wet ink…the way the artist painted it. Was it resin or something?”
He doesn’t answer any of my questions. He’s too busy leading me away.
“Where are we going?” I ask, laughing more.
Back near his bedroom, there’s a closed door that leads to another dark room. Unlike in his study, he leaves the light off as we walk inside, and as my eyes adjust I see it’s likely because of what’s on the ceiling: hundreds of glowing stars. They’re not the stick-on kind from the dollar store; these look like they’ve been painted by a careful hand. Among them, there are swirling nebulas and twinkling constellations. An entire universe lives on the ceiling of this room. A room I would have loved as a child. Through the shallow darkness, I see the spaceship blankets neatly tucked in on a twin-sized bed, the framed photo of Buzz Aldrin on the moon over a dresser, the telescope by the window.
I turn slowly back to Ben, and he looks so frustrated, at an utter loss as he asks, “Do you see now?”
Chapter Thirty
Ben
I’m lying next to Raelynn in my bed while she sleeps. It’s early morning, predawn, and I’ve tried to close my eyes again and rest, but my brain won’t comply. My body is hyperaware that Raelynn is in my bed, and I barely slept a wink all night. At this point, I’ve given up trying in favor of watching her. She’s snuggled up beside me, lips parted, cheeks flushed and freckled. Her hair dried into wild curls after her shower last night, and a few of them splay across my chest, the pale golden strands tempting me.
She hasn’t stirred once and I’m glad; she was exhausted last night. I saw what that spectacle outside the club did to her, how quickly she clammed up, nervous and on edge. She seemed so brittle in the front seat of my car, barely breathing as I drove us away from the mess of paparazzi.
I regret my impatience. Had I stopped and thought for one second, I would have never followed her into that club. I would have paced myself, introduced her to this life slowly, eased her in with proper planning, security, warnings. It’s too late for that now. Last night’s exit ensured the peace and quiet of the life she knew yesterday is now gone.
The hounds will be on her from here on out. As long as we’re linked together, they’ll want a piece of her, and that knowledge kills me.
What kind of selfish bastard subjects someone he cares for to this life? It’s bad enough that Caleb will suffer thanks to me, but I don’t want that for Raelynn. I wish there were another way.
A quiet voice inside my head points out that there is another way.
I could give her back.
I could have my security team drive her home and set her right back into her old life. I could concoct an elaborate diversion with my PR team, be seen around town with another girl, and let Raelynn drift right back into anonymity.
The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
I’m not the man I wish I were, someone honorable and good.
I want her too much to send her back. I’ve been living and suffering without her for so long. Surely I’ve paid my dues. Surely I’m owed an ounce of happiness.
I trace a finger down her arm as my throat squeezes tight.
Ultimately, it will be her decision whether she stays or goes, I know that. But I won’t do the right thing; I won’t push her away to make it easier. I can’t.
I drag her closer. She moans quietly in her sleep as I wrap my arms around her and kiss her hair. Her scent fills the air around me, and I breathe deeply as she falls back asleep beside me, her hand flat on my chest.
A little after seven AM, she finally stirs and sits up, rubbing her eyes as she takes in her surroundings.
“How long have you been awake?”
I damn near blush. “A while.”
“Just watching me sleep like a weirdo?”
I chuckle, but I don’t deny it.
She sits up a little more, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking away, almost self-conscious. I reach for her, cupping the back of her neck and tugging her closer to me so I can kiss her cheek.
I tell her she looks so fucking gorgeous just to see that red creep up her neck and color her cheeks. She’s so easy to tease, so responsive and earnest in bed. I’ve been hungry for an hour, was contemplating what I could make us for breakfast, but now I drag Raelynn down onto the bed and decide we’ll stay here a little while longer, just kissing, nothing more. God. It’s torture to keep my hands in check, to resist the urge to dip my hand beneath my shirt she’s wearing.
It’s nearly eight before we manage to get up and leave my bedroom.
“I’m so hungry I feel lightheaded,” she says, half teasing.
I grab her hand just in case she’s about to pass out on me and lead her toward the kitchen.
Nina is in there, meal-prepping some lunches and dinners for me. She’s slightly younger than Donna, not quite sixty, with a tiny bit of gray overtaking her short black hair near her temples. She’s petite, but she makes up for it with her personality. She’s got a lot of it crammed into her small frame.
She beams when she sees me coming, then that smile drops completely, replaced with slack-jawed shock when she sees Raelynn tucked by my side.
“Ben, good morning! I didn’t realize you had company.”
She’s already flying, grabbing for a towel so she can wipe her hands clean before rushing over.
“Nina, it’s fine. You keep doing what you were doing. I was just going to make breakfast for us.”
“Of course. Yes.” She nods and reaches out her hand for Raelynn. The smile on her face says it all. “I’m Nina, Mr. Castillo’s housekeeper.”
“And right-hand woman,” I add.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Raelynn,” she says, beaming.
Nina has been with me for years. She’s the one who connected me with Donna. They’re cousins and thick as thieves. When they’re both here, the house is never quiet, and I like it that way.
“You’re beautiful,” Nina tells Raelynn. “Look at you. Pure sunshine.”