Page 24 of A Touch Of Death

The hand creating swirls on my back trails higher, between my shoulder blades and to the base of my neck, where Nix gently brushes my hair aside. As soon as my neck is bare, his warm touch moves along my skin and under my shirt. His touch elicits a full body shiver, and he chuckles under his breath, the sound loud but comforting under my ear. "There you are."

I move my head until my chin rest on his chest. The position is entirely too intimate, but I can't even put into words how right it feels. This shouldn't feel right, sleeping on top of a man I've known for much less than a week and feeling like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Do you know how I ended up like this?" I ask, feeling warmth crawling up my neck to my cheeks.

Nix gives me a smirk and says, "Beats me. I'm just irresistible, I guess."

I can see the humour in his eyes, so I snort and poke a finger into his ribs. He flinches like I hurt him and laughs.

"Alright, alright. I think it was my fault again. You woke me up at some point in the night. You were having a nightmare, and when I tried to wake you, you started crying, so I just wrapped myself around you to calm you down. I must have rolled over without letting you go," he explains while his finger still traces soft patterns on my skin.

I cringe at the thought of having a nightmare that he had to wake me from. I don't remember dreaming at all, but now that I think about it, there's a sadness weighing me down, like it's pressing hard on my shoulders, but I don't know what caused it. Must be leftover emotions from the dream I don't remember.

"Well, in that case, thank you for waking me and comforting me," I say just before face planting into Nix's chest because I sound like an idiot.

He snickers, and my forehead bounces on his chest. He pulls his hand from under my shirt and begins to run it through my hair, untangling it with his meaty hands. "You're welcome, babe."

My body turns to stone before melting all over again. If he's calling me 'babe' like he did last night, does that mean he remembers using the term of endearment before we both fell asleep? Could it mean he remembers what he said before that, about me staying? Could this mean he meant it, or does he not remember anything and has sporadically decided to use the term of endearment thinking it's the first time he's said it? What I wouldn't give to have Zayn's ability to read minds right now.

"What? What's wrong," he asks, his ministrations pausing when he feels my body stiffen for that very brief moment.

I clear my throat and decide to drop it all. I don't want to make a fool of myself. I'd rather save myself the embarrassment if he doesn't remember or regrets what he said. "Nothing. I'm fine. We should get out of bed."

I make a move to slide awkwardly off the shifter, but his arms keep me in place. "It's not nothing. What had you freezing up just now?"

"It's really nothing," I tell him. When he doesn't make any move to shift his arms away, I blurt, "You're going to need to let me go. I need to pee."

Comically fast, he releases his hold on me, and I push away from him, climbing out of the bed awkwardly. I walk towards the door, opening it enough to check the hallway. My eyes spy the bathroom, and I'm beyond grateful that the door is open, indicating that it's empty.

I rush to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind me. As soon as I'm enclosed in the safety of the room, I move towards the sink and turn on the tap, splashing some much-needed cold water on my face. Once I dry my face, I spot the toothbrush Ezra gave me yesterday. Only, now it has my name printed on the pink surface of the handle. Who labelled my toothbrush and why?

I shake my head and check my reflection in the mirror. My hair looks better than it would have thanks to Nix's attention, but my complexion is still incredibly pale and my face too thin, just as the rest of my body is. My cheekbones stand out more than they ever have, my jaw sharper than the rounded baby face I used to sport before I was taken.

A pang of sadness has me looking away from the mirror, but my eyes catch something bright before I look away completely. I glance back in the mirror, looking for whatever it was that caught my attention. When I spot it, my eyebrows draw down in confusion.

Is that women's shampoo?

I turn around and move closer to the rack that holds the guys’ various toiletries. Amongst them is a bottle of women's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. None of that was there yesterday, so...

Deciding to take a look around to see if anything else has popped up since the last time I showered, sure enough I find a pack of unopened women's razors, a bright pink sponge, a wash cloth, and a small assortment of bubble baths and bath bombs. None of which had been there before since I’d had to use Ezra's things. Where did they come from? Are... are they for me? Given I'm the only woman here, that seems like a stupid question to ask.

Confused, I walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where Spencer sits at the island eating cereal and reading something on his phone, a black snapback hat in place today. Ezra is sitting on the couch that faces away from me, only his deep red hair visible over the back of it. Zayn doesn't seem to be around. I wonder where he is.

As soon as I step into the kitchen, Spencer's head lifts from his cell, and he looks over at me. He watches me carefully as I fetch myself a glass of water and continues to do so when I lean against the sink and sip my drink. I can feel my eyebrows still furrowed as I think about the girly things that now take up space in the bathroom.

"Morning. You okay? Looking very deep in thought there," Spencer says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm okay. You okay?" I ask, offering him a smile before taking a large gulp of water.

His lips quirk upwards, not quite a smile, but close enough, and it sends all thoughts of my discoveries out of my brain. This man should really smile more, even if they're small and reserved.

He gives me a nod and says, "Yup. I'm okay." He pauses to finish his cereal, and once he's finished, he asks, "Did you have anything specific in mind for what you wanted your room to look like?"

My eyes fly to his, as wide as dinner plates, and my mouth pops open with an audible pop. Did I just hear that right? Did he actually say... "My- my room?"

Spencer looks confused for a moment and asks, "Yeah. Didn't Nix talk to you about living here? With... with us? Zayn said he'd spoken to you about it."

He sounds unsure. His eyebrows are raised, and he scratches behind his ear, like it’s a nervous reflex. My mouth still hangs open, shock rendering me speechless. Nix really meant what he said. It wasn't a sleepy ramble he'd thrown at me. They... they want me to stay. After five years of suffering, I actually have ahome.

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