Page 53 of Defend Me

“Does it make things hard?”

“Not really. Anyone casual doesn’t ask the specifics about my sexuality. It’s not like I date anyway. Let’s get out of here.”

After he settled his tab, he led me to the door. It was quiet during our ride to his apartment. I thought about telling him I could go home, but I’d rather be with him and since he hadn’t mentioned it, I was fine with following his lead.

I shivered when we got out of the car. My baggy sweater didn’t do much to keep out the cold and I hadn’t expected the temperature to drop so much.

While we waited for the elevator, Brooks put his arm around me. I didn’t question it because he was somehow warm as fuck. I leaned into his side and hummed contentedly.

Once we were inside his apartment, I drew in a deep breath. My eyes were heavy from the drinks and I couldn’t stifle a yawn.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward his door.

He dropped onto his back on the bed and sighed. Tentatively, I climbed in from the other side. When he didn’t protest, I laid beside him with our arms touching. It was dark, with only faint light coming in through the windows. Overly aware of how quiet it was, I tried to make sure my breaths weren’t too loud.

“Are you warm now?” he asked.

“Yeah, mostly.”

Rolling onto his side, he draped an arm over me. I matched his position and was glad for the dimness in the room. All I could see were the major features of his face, so I hoped he wouldn’t recognize any stray traces of panic in my expression. My breaths betrayed me when his fingers brushed the bare skin of my back underneath my shirt.

This didn’t feel like a good idea. It didn’t mean anything to him, but to me, it was intoxicating. Every touch, every time he looked at me for a little too long, I read into them, even though I tried not to.

“Maybe I should sleep in the other room or something,” I suggested.

“It’s fine.”

“Will it be fine tomorrow?”

“It’s not a big deal, Tilian.” His touch traveled to my pelvic bone, then returned to my back. I struggled to keep myself from trembling. “I feel better when I’m with you.”

“Better?” I repeated.

“Calm. No pressure. I can just… be.”

“I like that I make you feel that way.”

“And more,” he said softly.

“Like what?”

With the arm he had around me, he pulled me closer, putting us only inches apart. “Jealous.”

My stomach flipped so violently that I worried the alcohol would come back up. I waited for him to show me his lighthearted smile or say ‘sike,’ but he just stared at me intently.

“I shouldn’t be,” he went on. “When I saw you flirting with Remi, I had to play it cool.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him.” I laid my hand over his cheek, then traced his lips with two fingers. “Really.”

“You should’ve been.”

I frowned. “Why do you do that? It’s like you flip a switch when you realize you’ve said something genuine.”

“Because you’re not supposed to get past these walls I put up to keep you back, but somehow, you keep doing it. And I’m tipsy, so I guess I’ve just set myself up for failure.”

“Being real doesn’t mean you failed.”

“Doesn’t it?”

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