Page 65 of The Way We Fell

Chapter thirty-three

Katy

Irollover,throwingmy legs off the edge of the mattress and slapping my feet down onto the floor. My eyes are barely even open, but I need to brush my teeth and I need to pee—not necessarily in that order. The cool surface takes me by surprise for a split second, until I remember that I’m not in my own bedroom with my fluffy rug and cosy string lights. I’m at Jay’s flat, with his minimal furnishings and hard floors. Dragging myself to a standing position, I stretch and then scrub at my eyes with the backs of my hands as Jay immediately begins to straighten the bedsheets.

“What are you doing?” My voice is still rough and husky from sleep.

“Making the bed,” he answers smoothly, stretching over the mattress to tuck in the sheet. The muscles in his shoulders ripple as he stretches and I’m mesmerised. He folds the corners before pulling them tight and securing them under the mattress, then runs a hand over the surface to smooth it out. The entire process took two minutes or less, but it looks flawless—like we haven’t just spent the night tangled in the sheets.

“But… don’t you even pee first?”

Jay’s eyes snap up to mine. There’s a strange expression on his face—it’s like a mixture of guilt and regret, a little nervousness and something else I can’t quite identify. Like he’s ashamed of the way he simply lives his life. Like he’s edging towards the door, one eye always on his exit route. I hate it. I want to kiss all of it off his face, rid him of any anxieties because he’s perfect. He’s a walking green flag for fuck’s sake, better than any book boyfriend I’ve ever imagined, and I never want to make him feel like he’s anything less. I never want to be the reason for that look on his face.

“It comes from the army, I guess,” he says quietly. He doesn’t meet my eyes, instead, staring at a spot in the middle of the bed. “Everything had to be perfect. Beds made up within seconds of waking, sheets perfectly tight. They bounce fucking pennies on them to make sure they’re done properly.”

“Jesus, I thought that was a joke.”

“Not even slightly, Princess,” he says darkly. “I guess… I guess it’s just something I can’t quite shake.”

I shuffle around the end of the bed and reach out to him. His bare skin is warm, and he smells like sleep and Jay, and I tug him into me, tucking myself under his arm and pressing my body as close to his as I can.

“You don’t need to ‘shake it’,” I whisper into his chest as I hug him. “If you want to make the bed before you pee, then make the bed before you pee. I don’t care.” I press a soft kiss between his pecs and he shivers lightly at the touch of my lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers into my hair. He uses his thumb and forefinger to grasp my chin, tilting my face up to look at him before pressing his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. “And now, I am going to piss.”

He drops his arms from my shoulders, and with one last kiss to the top of my head, he turns and slips into the en suite bathroom. After a moment, I hear the toilet flush and the running of water, before the shower turns on. I sit carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to muss up the perfectly-neat sheets. This man. He’s a dichotomy I never saw coming. He’s filthy and sweet, stern and kind, aloof and attentive. He’s everything I never knew I needed. And he’s entirely forbidden. He’s my best friend’s brother.

Sisters before misters, right? That’s the girl code. Friends always come first. And Ruth—she’s been my best friend for years. She knows everything there is to know about me, and she loves me anyway. Well, except for the fact that her brother has been fucking me senseless on just about every surface in both of our homes for the last couple of weeks. And except for the fact that I’ve fallen wildly, irrevocably, and irresponsibly in love with him.

“What about this piece?” I hold out a chunky wooden jigsaw piece to Maisy and she looks between it and the half-finished puzzle on the floor. When Amie is away, one of us or her mum usually will stay at Amie’s house with Maisy, but this time, Maisy requested another sleepover at my house. What my little goddaughter wants, she gets, so we’ve had a proper camp-out in sleeping bags in the living room, complete with a midnight snack of cookies and apple slices. Sure, the midnight snack was eaten at seven in the evening, and sure, we were both asleep before nine, but it’s the thought that counts.

It was strange to go from sleeping in Jay’s bed one night to sleeping on my living room floor the next, and even stranger to sleep alone—even though Maisy was with me, and even though she spent half the night sharing my sleeping bag with me. For the last fortnight, I’ve spent most nights falling asleep in Jay’s arms.

Ruth came over this morning with some books and puzzles, and the three of us have been on the floor, listening to a Disney Princess playlist and putting jigsaws together for the last hour. Maisy’s furrowed brow melts into a wide grin as she slots another piece into place.

“Good job, Maisy-Pop!” I hold up my hand for a high-five and she slaps it with her own, giggling gleefully. She’s momentarily distracted by some movement outside the window, running to watch one of my neighbours walk their dog past my house, so I take the opportunity to lean in to Ruth.

“How are things with Cowboy Boo?”

“We’ve been texting. A little FaceTime.”

“FaceTime, huh? Naked FaceTime?”

Ruth scoffs. “No, very much fully clothed. But…” She trails off, uncertainty clouding her dark features.

“But what, Roo? What is it?”

“I think I like him.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I knock her arm with my own. “That he’s not a total weirdo?”

“I didn’t say that,” she smirks. “He’s definitely kind of weird. But I think maybe he’smykind of weird.”

“Do you want my advice?”

“Do I have a choice?”

I stick my tongue out as Maisy runs back to us, plopping to the floor and sweeping away the puzzle pieces.

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