Page 50 of When You Stayed
Nope, I could not even fathom him wanting me like that because I’d be right where we left off yesterday if I did. So, instead, I slid out from under his hold and scrambled to my feet.
His eyes shot open, but he seemed disoriented, like he wasn’t sure why he was in the cellar, and more importantly, why I was in his lap.
“Why was I sleeping on you?” I asked, pushing pieces of my hair back into place.
Ford stretched, and as his hips lifted, I could see the imprint of his hard-on even more than before. “Relax, Rose. Connor moved you before he left, said you were going to tweak your neck.”
“So he moved me so that my head was in your lap?” Why did my voice sound so panicked? Nothing happened, it was fine. Even if something did, I was an adult, and Ford was…well, if something were to happen, I wouldn’t be upset about it on a physical level. My outrage was confined to the pesky emotional level. He had only ever broken my heart, which made me reluctant to stare at how thick that outline was in his jeans or how good he looked just waking up from sleep, while his eyes still held that droopy, sleepy quality.
Ford smiled up at me. “After I told him to, yes.”
My brows curved as I tried to process that. Since we were in the cellar, it was impossible to see how early it was, but my phone revealed it was just after seven in the morning. I’d slept here overnight. I’d slept in Ford Ryan’s lap overnight.
“Do you know where this couch is sitting?” His sleep-roughened voice scraped against some place tender and extremely aware inside of me.
I hid it by turning my back to him. “In the cellar.”
He slowly got to his feet, and I refused to see if that pipe was still thick against his thigh. “No, this is sitting directly over the door that used to lead down into the tunnels. Which means, this is exactly where?—”
“You kissed me,” I whispered.
I wanted to press into the moment and ask all of my questions, but I was so scared that he’d ruin it by being his typical dickish self. Before I had a chance to say anything, he walked closer. “We didn’t finish our conversation last night, Rose.”
“We weren’t in a conversation last night, Ford.”
His smirk was devastating. “You were explaining how last night, while we were talking about our custody agreement of Gus, your boyfriend?—”
“He’s not, and never was, my boyfriend.”
Ford stared at me. “You kissed him.”
“He kissedme,” I argued.
“You kissed him back, Rose. While I was standing right fucking there.”
Why was he being so stubborn about this? “You kissed Jas?—”
He was in my face within seconds, seething. “I never kissed her. I haven’t kissed any?—”
Trailing off, he shifted on his feet, releasing a curse.
“You haven’t kissed what?” I asked on a breathy whisper.
The door leading down to the cellar opened, and footsteps echoedaround the space, breaking the moment. Ford stepped back and glanced to the side, likely trying to see who had come downstairs.
“Ford!” That was my father’s voice.
The man in front of me cursed before hanging his head. “This is going to be pretty bad. You might want to head upstairs.”
“But he’ll see me,” I whispered, inching closer to him. The cellar wasn’t huge, but we were currently hidden from anyone who walked down.
Ford’s smile was small, but it was genuine.
“That’s why it’s gonna be bad, Rose. He’s going to know that you slept down here with me, and it’s going to lead to another round of him hitting me.”
I flinched, remembering the last time they’d been in a fight. “He hurt you last time.”
“That’s because I didn’t fight back.”
