Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You #1)(58)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Wiggling in between us, Megan nudged me aside and stole my spot. Jared took a turn twirling her around. She bumped him once with her hip, then dropped his hand and danced toward me.

She knew what was going on between us. A couple of weeks ago, I’d finally confided in her that I slept with him, admitting he came stealing into my room every night. It wasn’t as if she was all that surprised. She said after seeing the two of us together on the Fourth, she didn’t know how it hadn’t happened sooner.

Even though she was drunk, she remained aware, her eyes slanting to me before they quickly shifted to Christopher and back to me.

A warning.

I was being obvious.

Tonight I didn’t know how to care. How could what Jared and I had be wrong?

Still I backed off and turned to take Christopher by the hand, my crazy brother who’d had so much to drink he could barely stand. He didn’t come quite so reluctantly as Jared had. As if Christopher wouldn’t jump at the chance to join in.

Jared wormed his way back to the couch, content to be the spectator to our silliness. The rest of us danced and sang and drank until the night grew deep.

Christopher finally called it quits and staggered back to his room.

I whispered a reluctant “Good night” to Jared before I retreated to my bedroom with Megan. Tonight would be the first night I’d spend without him in so long, but I’d missed my friend. Megan and I used to do this all the time, her hanging out here, staying all night. Christopher had earned a good smack to the back of the head the first time he’d teased us about sleeping together.

She joined me in my room and curled up on her side of the bed with her back pressed to the wall, her cheek resting on her hands.

Sinking onto my side, I smiled at her as I tucked my pillow under my head. “I’m glad you came over tonight. This was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, it really was.” She bit at her lip. Knowing eyes darted to the door, her voice soft. “You love him, Aly?”

I looked at my best friend, unsure why I’d kept this secret for so long. Unsure why I still did.

“So much,” I whispered. I knew it sounded as if it hurt because, really, it did.

She blinked as if trying to work it out. “You’re different with him.”

I glanced away, then back at her. “Is that good or bad?”

She cringed a little, as if she might not want to answer. “Both, I think. Maybe it’s just that I’ve seen you shut off for so long it’s weird to see you like this. I guess it worries me some.” Her eyes were wide and honest. “I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“I am happy.”

She nodded, though worry creased her face. We both fell into silence, lost in thought.

Sleep was quick to overtake her. In no time, her soft snore filled my room.

I stared at the darkened ceiling and tried to find sleep of my own. I should have known my efforts would be fruitless.

Finally I climbed to my feet and tiptoed out into main room. It was pitch-black, the heavy curtains drawn. My eyes adjusted, and I shuffled to the place I knew he would be.

Heavy, burdened breaths filled the room, this anxiety winding through him where he lay just on the cusp of sleep. I knew it because I found him there every night, shaking, twitching, silent in his pain.

I just wanted to take it away.

Slowly, I climbed onto the couch, straddling him at his waist. He jerked up as if in shock, the strong planes of his stomach stretched taut as he lifted his head. Rough hands dug into my hips.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was all gravelly.

“I missed you,” I said.

I felt his palm come to my face. His fingers traveled up to comb through my hair. “You shouldn’t be out here like this, Aly.”

I leaned down, pressing my hands to the cushions on both sides of his face. “I’m not ashamed of us, Jared,” I whispered urgently toward the shadows that blackened his face.

His hand tightened into a fist in my hair. “You should be.”

Steam filled the bathroom the next day as I took my shower. Sheets of hot water pounded on my shoulders before they cascaded down my back. Rivulets gathered as thin lines that snaked along my legs before they crawled to the shower floor. I lathered my body wash on my loofah and scrubbed it over my skin, breathing in the freshness as the hot water slowly cleared my head.

Megan had left half an hour before.

We’d all slept in, Megan and me stumbling from bed at close to noon. Jared had still been asleep on the couch, his hair sticking up in every direction when he’d lifted his head to throw a frustrated squint at us when we emerged from my room. His pained expression didn’t come close to the one I was sure Megan would be sporting all day. She’d woken with a drawn-out groan, ramming her fists in her eyes to block out the light.

I’d asked her what she expected when she’d consumed half her weight in tequila the night before.

Rinsing the soap from my body, I turned off the shower and blindly fumbled outside the curtain for my towel. I pressed it to my face where it absorbed my contented sigh.

There were few things that felt better than a hot shower.

Redness rushed to the surface of my skin because echoes of Jared’s touch suddenly flooded my mind. Sometimes I didn’t know what do with the thoughts I had about him, the way he made me feel or the things he made me want.

After I dried off, I lathered lotion on my legs and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. I wiped the fog from the mirror and slowly pulled a brush through my hair. Today was the first Saturday I didn’t have to work in a long time, and I was just looking forward to spending the day with Jared, in whatever capacity that might be.

Someone tapped at the door, and then I heard Christopher. “Hey, Aly, I’m going to run to the grocery store really quick. Do you need anything?”

“Um… more orange juice. I just drank the last of it,” I hollered back.

“Okay, sure.” Then he was gone.

Thirty seconds later, there were two low thuds at the door, the two seconds separating them like a silent plea. That was all it took for my heart to speed. I fumbled with the lock and pulled it open. Jared stood on the other side of the doorway, waiting for me.

He’d seemed irritable this morning, and I thought it was because he had a hangover of his own. But now he seemed edgy. Intently he dragged his gaze down my length, his movements pulsing with uncontained intensity. Hungry. Possessive.

“I didn’t think he’d ever leave.”

There was something about his tone that made my stomach lurch and sent my nerves careening. I shook in impatient apprehension as he crossed the threshold and locked the door behind him.