Lost to You (Take This Regret 0.5)(12)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Nerd,” I mouthed, unable to stop myself from provoking her more.

Her mouth dropped open farther, and I struggled to keep from laughing, but I couldn’t hold it in when Elizabeth suddenly lunged at me, her little fingers coming out to jab me in the sides. “Nerd, huh? Well you”—she did her best to tickle me, to dig her fingers in, while I did my best at shielding myself—“are…a…jerk.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, splayed my hands out to try to deflect her assault. Her hair fell all around my face, the weight of her tiny body pressed over mine. We were both convulsing with laughter and exertion. Her eyes were all soft and playful, and I was thinking how damned good it’d feel to kiss her right now. Would one kiss really make that much a difference? Change this dynamic? Steal her from me?

As if those questions had just played across my face, Elizabeth jerked away, tucking her hair back behind both ears as she straightened herself.

I kind of smiled at her as she slinked back. Then in a flash, she snuck up and slapped me on the stomach. “Jerk.”

“Ow!” I clutched my stomach, searching for air since she’d knocked it from me, laughed some more. “Not cool, Elizabeth. That was a cheap shot.”

“You deserved it,” she said, laughing as she scooted up the bed, grabbing the remote to flip on the television

I sat up on the edge of the bed, turned around, and plucked the remote from her hand. She had one coming.

“Hey.” She grappled for it, and I just shook my head.

“Don’t even think about it. This is mine.” Smug, I turned back toward the television, leaned with my elbows on my knees and began flipping through the stations.

“Just for that, you’re going ice skating with me,” she mumbled, almost so low I couldn’t hear her.

But I did.

“Not a chance, Elizabeth.”

She toed me in the rib, this playful thing that took my breath away.

I finally picked out a movie, some comedy I’d watched what seemed a thousand times in high school. Elizabeth raised a brow at my selection.

“Just watch it…you’ll think it’s funny. Trust me.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

I chuckled, stood up, and stretched. “Mind if I use your restroom?”

“Go ahead.”

I took a piss, washed my hands, and scrubbed my palms over my face. I was supposed to meet up with Tom right about now, but I figured he’d get over it.

I flipped off the bathroom light as I stepped back into the main room. The only light came from the frames on the TV. Colors flickered over Elizabeth’s face. I climbed to one knee on the bed, stretched so I could peer out the window.

Elizabeth looked up, frowning. “What are you doing?”

My gaze swept the sidewalk. Creepy lurker guy was gone.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, settling back to the bed. I supposed I could cut out, call it a night. Leave Elizabeth here, alone. But I didn’t want to.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Her face kind of crinkled, like she really didn’t understand what was going through my head. I guess I didn’t really, either.

We turned back to the television, and I sat through the movie I could quote verbatim and just listened to Elizabeth laugh. At first she tried to contain it, to cover up her reaction, before she let loose. She laughed so hard she rolled to her side, so hard she was wiping her eyes.

Her little bare feet were situated close to my side. I reached out, my fingertips brushing over her ankle. I looked up at her. “I’m really glad I met you, Elizabeth.”

Her eyes smiled. “I’m really glad I met you, too.”

Faint light filtered into the room. I blinked, orienting myself to my surroundings. A surprised breath escaped my mouth when I realized my nose was pressed to Elizabeth’s belly, her stomach rising and falling in her sleep.

I didn’t know when I’d fallen asleep, but at some point, she must have gotten up to flip off the television. Now she slept on her side, our bodies curled in an extended S, her head at the top of the bed and my feet hanging off the end.

I lifted myself to my elbow, pitched my head to the side to pop my stiff neck.

My eyes traveled the length of Elizabeth’s body. Her shirt had edged up in her sleep, her jeans stretched over her perfect ass.

Black lace and satin pink bows peeked out at me just over the top.

Damn.

I really did want in those panties.

Sighing, I forced myself to climb from her bed, maneuvered her around to cover her with a blanket.

Elizabeth moaned from the depths of sleep and flopped to the other side.

I reached out and brushed her hair back, ran the back of my hand down her face.

Friends.

I nodded as the word clattered through my brain. Then I peeked once more out her window to the vacant sidewalk below.

Maybe I’d overreacted. But could it ever be counted an overreaction when the safety of someone you cared about was at stake?

I glanced back down at her as she slept. No. That was impossible.

I couldn’t imagine something happening to her. Someone hurting her. The thought of it made me sick.

Shit.

Raking my hands through my hair, I released a breath into the quiet of her apartment, gathered my things, and slipped out her door. On the other side, I paused, my hand on the knob. Finally, I jiggled it to make sure it was locked and forced myself down the hall.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

Christian reached across the table and nabbed a fry from my plate. He’d already devoured his entire meal in what seemed less than two minutes.

I tried to smack his hand as he crammed the entire thing into his mouth. “Hey, didn’t your mom teach you any manners?”

He snorted. “Oh, she taught me all kinds of manners. And it’s not like you’re going to eat them.”

I shook my head, unable to grasp how one person could eat so much food. “Seriously, Christian…that can’t be healthy.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

I laughed. I really hoped not. The guy was already too much, this force of energy that still stole my breath when he entered the room. Over the last four weeks, we’d been hanging out a lot. The friendship we both needed was blossoming, growing, emerging into something indefinable.

I valued it more than I ever believed I could, though remained reserved, fortified behind the barriers I knew instinctively to put into place, an intuitive command to guard my heart and guard it well.

Enforcing that rule had somehow begun to feel hypocritical, a deceitful mask that I hid behind because the thoughts swirling through my head about Christian could not be contained by the definition I’d set for us.