Page 50 of Hunting Little Hope
Something heavy and soft was tucked under my chin, plush against my cheek. My legs were tangled in warmth. There was weight at my back and my front. I was surrounded by steady breathing and slow heartbeats.
For one blissful second, I didn’t move. Didn’t think. Just existed.
Then memory hit.
My realization last night, followed by a panic attack and then a long sleepless night of crying.
I’d missed breakfast.
Then... Lee’s knock.
My stupid, humiliating breakdown.
Oh no.
I cracked one eye open, and my gaze fell on a velvety, cream-colored blanket. My fingers flexed against it automatically. It was impossibly soft and all I wanted to do was burrow down into it and hide in its folds forever.
But the two warm bodies surrounding me reminded me that wasn’t going to be possible.
My stomach dropped, and carefully, slowly, I shifted.
Lee was behind me, one arm draped securely over my waist, his hand splayed protectively against my stomach. His face was relaxed in sleep, his brow smooth, and his tempting mouth slightly parted. He looked younger like this. Less controlled and in charge.
And in front of me... Perry.
He was curled in close, with one knee nudged between mine, and his arm tucked possessively over my hip like he’d claimed real estate there. His hair was a soft, chaotic mess. His lips were parted in a faint pout even in sleep.
And I was in the middle.
Wrapped up and surrounded.
Guarded on both sides.
My heart and head were a mess of emotions and thoughts, all vying for attention at the same time but before I could indulge in yet another shameful spiral I was distracted by a soft clearing of a throat.
My attention jumped to the chair in the corner of the room.
“Tyrell,” I whispered so softly, I almost couldn’t hear it myself.
His mouth twisted into a wry smile before he leaned forward, resting his chin on an upturned hand, his elbow on his knee. “Heya, button. You doing okay there?” His voice was soft, but his tone was laced with concern.
I bit my lip, unable to come up with a suitable response.
Even though I wasn’t even remotely close to okay, I didn’t want to give voice to my worries and fears. And I didn’t want to lie and pretend that all was hunky-dory either.
So I shrugged.
Which was a mistake.
Because the movement shifted the warm weight behind me.
Lee inhaled slowly, the sound brushing over the shell of my ear before his arm tightened instinctively around my middle.
“Mmm,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. “You’re awake.”
Heat flooded my cheeks.
“Sorry,” I blurted automatically.
