Page 58 of The Write Track
“Bring your concerns to Nathan,” I ordered as I headed toward our cabin. “We’re going to bed now. I’m sure we’ll see you in the morning.”
We laughed all the way to our cabin, and when we entered, I eyed the couch with disdain. The cushion was way too small for Nathan to be comfortable on. That meant I had no choice but to sleep there. It was the right thing to do since he’d stepped up for me so many times in the past few weeks. Heck, the past few hours. I opened my mouth to tell him I would find a blanket and get comfortable, but he was already steering me toward the bed.
“Bella, we’re adults,” he reminded me. “The bed is big enough for both of us to sleep in and be comfortable. I promise not to make a move on you.”
That was a bit of a disappointment, but I laughed anyway. I didn’t want him to make a move on me—right?—but it wouldn’t have hurt my ego for him to pull his usual flirting schtick.
None of that mattered now. We’d just beat Preston at his own game, and I felt glorious. “Are you sure?” I asked, already knowing his answer.
“Yes. It will be fine. Just make sure you wear pajamas. I can’t be held accountable for anything I do if you’re naked in the same bed with me. Dream Nathan has a mind of his own.”
I laughed even harder, the flirting warming me all over. Sure, it had been a lame attempt, but he’d still put in the effort. “I’ll hit the bathroom and brush my teeth first.”
“Okay. Just know that I like my mouth to stink when I’m sleeping, so I don’t brush my teeth before bed.”
“That’s extremely unhygienic.”
“I like living on the edge.”
“Whatever floats your boat.”
I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING WITHa warm presence next to me in bed. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Preston had never been a snuggler, so I’d never woken up with him close to me. We’d had a huge king-sized bed when we lived together, and we were practically on separate continents most mornings. Somehow, in sleep, Nathan had migrated closer to me.
His arms weren’t around me, not that I would have kicked up a fuss over that or anything, but his chest was close to my back. Not exactly spooning, but very close.
I held my breath as I shifted, ever so slightly, and looked up at his handsome features. How was he even better looking first thing in the morning? That shouldn’t have been possible. With his morning stubble and the peaceful look on his face, however, he could have been posing on any magazine page.
“You’re staring,” he murmured in a rusty voice.
I jolted. He hadn’t opened his eyes. “How…?”
Slowly, his lids opened, and the warmth reflected there made me roll my eyes.
“Can you see through your eyelids or something?” I complained.
“No.” He laughed at my discomfort. “I cannot. I just kind of felt it.”
Felt it.I was suddenly feeling weird things, too, things I couldn’t put a name to. Okay, I could put a name to them.Attraction. Fondness. I wasn’t into freaky adoration territory or anything, but I worried I might get there.
Nathan had made no bones about the fact he wasn’t looking for a relationship. I was right there with him. I hadn’t gotten over my last relationship, although I’d made every attempt to do just that. Preston refused to allow me the grace to move on with my life. If I could, however, I would want it to be with somebody like Nathan.
That realization was like a hard slap on a naked cheek. I liked him. We could never have more than friendship, though. I wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t either, for different reasons. One of those reasons was his father. He hadn’t said much about the man, but it wasn’t hard to parse out that information.
His father had marked him. Not in a physical way, but in a mental way. Nathan might not even realize how marked he was. Until he got past his issues with his father, he wasn’t going to be able to move forward with anything serious.
As for me, I had to shake Preston. He was like a freaking barnacle. The more I pushed him away, the more he clung to me. Nathan would help me say goodbye to Preston for good. I had faith in that. Afterward, we would be friends. It was all we could ever be.
“I was thinking,” I started, rubbing my cheek. “Do you think Michael Myers ever sleeps? Like, we’re not shown him sleeping. He has to sleep, though, right? If you take out those few movies where he’s in a cult, then he’s not considered supernatural. He’s just a man.”
Nathan broke into a wide grin. “This is exactly the type of pillow talk I’ve been missing in my life. I can’t believe I’ve never had anything this stimulating to wake me up before.”
Another little thrill went through me. He didn’t mean what the squirming sparks of excitement in my belly wanted him to mean. He was just being funny.
“Now you know,” was all I managed to say.
“Oh, I have questions. I thought of them in my dreams. We need to have a serious discussion about Chucky.”
I grimaced.
