Page 45 of Adoring Delaney

“We’ll talk in bed. Go get ready.”

Damn.

I was giving myself a mental pep talk as I walked into my bedroom. I could do this. I’d shared a bed with Carter loads of times. And he was only staying over because of my car. I quickly washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went in search of my most unsexy sleepwear. Surely I had something that would communicate I wasn’t interested in anything more than sleeping.

I was still rummaging through my drawers, not finding anything near what I wanted, when Carter walked in.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at the multiple opened drawers.

“Finding pjs.”

“Pjs?”

“Uh, yeah. You know, something to sleep in.”

“You always sleep in one of my tees,” he unfortunately reminded me.

Whether he was joining me in bed or not I’d always worn one of his shirts to bed. They were huge on me and fell right above my knees. We had a ritual, he’d leave me the shirt he’d worn the day before and I’d wear it to bed for as long as I could before washing it. I could fall asleep with Carter’s smell wrapped around me. I also prolonged washing my sheets after he’d leave. This had gone on for years. Me preserving what he gave me, until I couldn’t.

Then I’d wash his shirt and my sheets and traces of Carter would be gone. I still slept in his tees but none of them still smelled like him. It had been a long time since he’d been in my bed. I’d tried my hardest to remove all traces of him. But I still wasn’t ready to give up the last thing I was holding onto. Him wrapped around me while I slept. Even if it was a stupid cotton shirt that no longer hinted of his shampoo and cologne.

“I don’t anymore,” I lied.

“Really? I see at least three of my tees right there.” He pointed to an open drawer and nabbed one, tossing it at me. “That’ll work.”

Regrettably my reflexes had kicked in and I caught the shirt as it hit my chest. The feel of it burned through me so hot I had to close my eyes. It was too much like old times, us getting ready for bed together. A time when I’d idiotically thought all I had to do was wait for Carter to come around and we could finally have it all.

“Baby? What the hell?”

Carter’s arms were around me and he yanked me to his front, the shirt trapped between us still scorching.

“I can’t do this. I thought I could. I wanted to. But there’s too much between us. Too much history. Too much hurt.”

“Don’t pull away from me. We’re gonna move forward. I promise we’ll—”

“I hate that word, ‘promise’. Please stop promising me things. You have no idea how hard this is for me. It’s almost been a year and I still hurt. I still sleep in your stupid t-shirts because I can’t let you go. I’ve tried. I keep trying, but I can’t. If you keep promising me we have a future, make me believe it then pull away again, I won’t survive. We can’t do this.”

Carter took a step back, took his shirt out of my hands, pulled the cute flowy top I’d worn to dinner over my head, expertly reached around behind me, unsnapped my bra, and in my stupor, I allowed it to fall to the floor. His tee was over my head, my arms were in the sleeves, and he’d done all of this without a word or my help.

His hands were at the button of my jeans and the next thing I knew he was pulling them down over my hips and he was on his knees in front of me. I did help him finish taking off my pants but when they were tossed aside, he didn’t stand. He leaned forward and rested his head against my belly for a beat before he kissed my stomach and stood.

The tiny gesture rocked me.

A simple nuzzle that conveyed more feeling than words ever could.

The emptiness I knew I would live with for the rest of my life suddenly didn’t feel so lonely. He now carried some of it.

Carter stripped down to his boxers and moved us to the bed. I climbed in still thinking about the belly kiss, and Carter arranged us to our normal positions. Him on his back, me tucked to his side with my head on his chest, one arm on his stomach but my hand over his heart and his over mine.

Familiar. Comfortable. History.

All the things I was struggling with.

But there was one thing that was new. Never had I felt Carter’s heartbeat hammer against my palm. It had always been a steady, rhythmic beat. Feeling it would lull me to sleep. Now it was erratic and pounding.

Something was eating at him, agitating him, something big enough to make his pulse race and I was afraid he was going to tell me what that something was.

15

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