Page 171 of Chasing Ruin
Ruin
I kissed her.
No—fuck that. I devoured her. Swallowed every gasp she gave me until sleep finally dragged us under.
Christ. She initiated the kiss twice. Twice.
Now I’m waking up next to her, my hand draped over her waist like it belongs there.
She looks so—
“Grrrblennn…”
—adorable.
A quiet chuckle slips out of me as I prop myself up on my elbow. Didn’t know she spoke fluent gibberish in her sleep.
I don’t know what I expected. Nightmares, maybe. The kind that has been clawing at me ever since that place.
But she didn’t stir. Not once.
She’s sprawled out like she downed a whole bottle of wine last night—one arm tossed above her head, the other flung over her forehead like she’s exhausted from existing.
Both her feet have escaped the duvet. And one of them—fuck—one of them is resting lightly over my uninjured calf. Like even in her sleep she was reaching for me.
Her foot is wrapped around me. Not her arms. Not curled into my side. Not tucked under my chin. Or her face nuzzling into my neck.
Her. Foot.
Somehow, my entire body melts at the contact.
I exhale slowly, my gaze tracing over her face—soft, slack, peaceful in a way I haven’t seen before.
Thank fuck she slept. I don’t know how she’s been getting through the nights this past week. After just one night beside her, I can’t imagine sleeping anywhere else.
God, I really fucking hope she lets me stay.
My lips thin, slightly annoyed.
The movies have failed me. Isn’t there supposed to be a strand of hair out of place so I can reverently tuck it behind her ear?
I shift, leaning over her to get a better look. The sun streams through the thick curtains, leaving a soft glow on her face.
I brush my fingers along her jaw. Her lips part, a low, sleepy sigh slipping free.
When her brow creases, I smooth it with my thumb, watching the tension melt under my touch.
Finally, she stirs. Turns her head away, eyes squeezed shut, arms curling in as she stretches out with a long, lazy yawn. A soft, incoherent mumble follows—somewhere between a complaint and a squeak—as sleep loosens its grip.
Her eyes blink open. Once. Twice.
The second she turns back toward me—
“AHHHHH!”
I jerk back at the ear-splitting shriek. Scrambling just in time to avoid a direct hit to my already injured abdomen, but her flailing legs still connect dangerously close to my balls.
Jesus.
