Page 61 of Tommy
I look around, but for all the sides I’ve seen of Tommy—mostly that he holds your attention no matter if you want to look at him or not—there are very few things to do in his home. No magazines lying around, no books out in the open.
I grab the remote and turn on the TV, turning on the closed captions to not disturb him as I flip through stations to find anything that will hold my attention. I never knew there were so many sports channels.
Finally, I settle on some old reruns of a sitcom I watched a time or two before. Nothing action-packed, just a group of four older women living together in Florida and dealing with life after fifty.
I focus on the words, reading every line. My eyes droop at the intensity and warm feeling, not only from the clothing but also the meal that was beyond amazing. Best thing I’ve eaten in years… maybe ever.
I hold off as long as I can, fear of sleep pushing me long past the first episode and into the second and third. But then I can’t fight it anymore. And when sleep takes me over, Iaccept the inevitable. I just hope I don’t scream and disturb Tommy’s call when I eventually start my nightmare. I really don’t want to be a bother for him.
I feel my body being lifted and reach out to grab for the ground to keep from flying away.
“Shhh. Go back to sleep. I got you.”
His words settle me, and I stop fighting him as I snuggle closer, letting his arms wrap around me as he carries me. When he puts me on the mattress, he doesn’t let me fall back right away. Instead, he holds me up and pulls one arm, then the other through the sweater before finally tugging it over my head.
“Good girl,” he murmurs close enough to my ear that I feel his breath against me.
I keep my eyes closed as we keep moving. At one point, I feel his lips against my forehead, though it could have been my imagination. Wishful thinking and nothing more.
A few moments later, he once again sets me down on the bed, and I uncurl from around him, rolling away to find comfort. Settling into the mattress, I take a deep, heavy breath before going back to slumberland.
That same warm, unfamiliar spice hits my nose.
My eyes pop open as I realize that the scent is coming off the pillow. My eyes take a moment to adjust to what I’m seeing—or more appropriately, what I’m not seeing. Not the guest room. His room.
I don’t move as I listen to him behind me. I’m facing away from the entrance, looking at darkness but hearing him move about. The clatter of his shoes hitting the floor followed by a belt buckle coming undone. More noise and then nothing. My heart is beating too fast for me to hear anything else.
But then I feel it.
The dip of the bed behind me has my breath stalling as I feel him get closer. But he doesn’t touch me.
Just lies beside me.
In his bed.
That he put me in.
I keep still, not sure what’s going to happen next. After the night I had, I don’t want anything. And yet.…
A small part. A tiny, little part is begging for him to hold me. To keep me locked in his arms and safe from the people out in the real world.
I expect to stay up a long time after realizing where I am, but sleep pulls me quickly under again. And when I dream, it’s not about what happened. No attacks come as nightmares. Instead, it’s eyes and smells that haunt me into thinking I could have something I probably never will.
And that should scare me more than what Carl almost did.
Chapter 23—Tommy
Icontinue to read over the email Bobby sent about beginning the process of moving me into Vinny’s old properties when she enters the kitchen. I’ve read it six times and still have zero clue what it says. For the last two hours, I haven’t focused on a damn thing.
We slept in, last night’s adrenaline hitting us both. For her, it sent her crashing hard. And when she stirred from distress in her dreams, I was only too happy to offer my services.
It had me staying up for hours after we went to bed.
Bed.
I put her in mine. It felt right. I wasn’t going to question it. I needed eyes on her last night. I needed to know she was okay. Having her in my bed was the right move. I wouldn’t have been able to comfort her if she were in the guest room.
Okay, yes, I would. If she wanted to be in her guest room, I would have let her. I just would have joined her in there too. But I prefer, like with most things in life, not to ask but to do. And taking her to my room was the easiest decision.
