Page 18 of Rebellious

The muscle in his jaw ticks as he stares at the now open space between us. “This isn’t a good idea,” he notes, eyeing the discarded pillow.

I nod. “Probably not, but I’m doing it anyway.”

He’s not amused and the pained noise that follows all but confirms it. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”

Ignoring his attitude, I throw a leg over his waist and straddle him. Sitting up, I snag my coffee from the table. “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up.” I take a sip of the fiery liquid, feeling the warmth trail down my throat. “We’re just lounging in your bed like we’ve done for years.”

It’s the truth. I sleep in Bennett’s bed more than I sleep in my own. Why he’s getting pissy is that, lately, as my time with him ticks down, I’ve been a little more aggressive and he’s let me.

I think he knows this is it. This is the end of us being neighbors and sharing a bed.

“You know,” I tell him, still straddling his hips, his hands clenched around his coffee, his body a frozen statue beneath me. “I can recommend another neighbor to snuggle with you when I’m gone.”

I’m totally lying. I don’t care how many miles away I am, I will come back to Georgia and kick some girl off my side of the bed.

His eyes are hard as they stare at my chest. “That’s not funny.”

Don’t worry, he isn’t getting an eyeful because when I started changing, he tossed me a shirt ten times my size.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I tell him. “I’m just saying, if you go through withdrawals, I can find you someone who can keep your feet warm.” Again, this is a lie, but I feel compelled to make a joke about it. Truth is, I’m the one who will suffer through withdrawals.

I’ve been sleeping in Bennett’s bed since he was born. My Aunt Breck, Bennett’s mom, used to say that at two years old, she would find me in Bennett’s crib in the middle of the night. No one knew how I got out of the house and into Bennett’s crib, but the habit never stopped. Eventually, our parents just let us fall asleep together. It was only when we hit our teenage years did my father put a stop to the bed-sharing. Clearly, we’ve found a way around that rule.

Bennett sets his coffee down and sighs. “Can we just pretend nothing is changing? That you aren’t moving at the end of the summer?”

His voice is soft but firm. Like me, this change upsets him. Whether or not change is what we need, letting Bennett go will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

“Yeah,” I agree. “We can pretend.”

I set my cup down next to his and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead like I used to do when I was bigger than him. His eyes are pinched shut and his mouth is clenched tight when I finally sit up.

I smooth the line of tense muscle with my thumb. My touch only somewhat relaxes him. Rolling off, I turn onto my side and face the wall like a good girl who obeys the rules.

The blankets rustle before they gently find their way over me. “Just a quick nap,” he promises, exhaling and curling up behind me. His arm drapes over my shoulder, comforting me. But I need more.

Pushing back into his body, the heat and security envelop me in a warm embrace like I crave. “Just a nap,” I agree.

“She’s in here!”

My brother’s voice sends me shooting up in bed. The door to Bennett’s bedroom is open and Fenn is standing in the open space.

I look at Bennett, who rubs his eyes before checking the watch on his wrist. “It’s four,” he tells me. “You’re supposed to be at the football field at five.”

I nod. “I’ll make it in time.”

My brother scoffs. “Doubtful. Not with Dad in the living room and you naked in Bennett’s bed.”

I glare at my brother. “I’m not naked, dipshit.”

Fenn shrugs. “Dad won’t stop to make sure. He’ll kill Bennett on the spot.”

Sitting up, I slide out from under the covers and interlock my fingers, stretching the muscles in my back. Even though I could use another eight hours of Zs, I feel better than I did before.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell Bennett, walking to the window, ignoring Fenn’s threat. Raising the frame, I slip out onto the grass and shuffle across the courtyard to mine and Vee’s townhouse. It isn’t a long walk; a sprint would have me at the back door in seconds. Which is exactly what I do.

“Where have you been?” Vee’s big brown eyes are wide as she holds up her phone. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

I close the back door and flip the lock. I don’t need my parents barging in after Fenn throws me to the wolves.

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