Page 25 of Mayhem

“Figure it out,” I call over my shoulder.

Seven

It’s onlymy third night living at the Rockford home, but it still unnerves me. Even if logically I know I am safe, being inside so early makes me antsy.

I toss and turn until I can’t take it anymore. I make my way out of the room, tiptoeing down the hall toward the living room. Once I step inside, I head for the couch.

“What are you doing?” he says out of nowhere.

“Jesus. What are you doing out here?”

Chase sits up from where he’s lying on the couch. “Trying to sleep if someone wasn’t trying to sneak out.”

“Why are you sleeping out here?”

“Because someone is using my bed. Now, what are you doing out here?”

He’s letting me sleep in his bed while he has to sleep out here. Why would he do that?

I push the questions out of my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He groans. “Come here.”

“What? No.”

“Willow, you either come here or I come to you. Which do you prefer?”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I make my way to him. Once I’m standing in front of him, he surprises me by sweeping me off my feet, literally.

One second I’m standing and the next, he has me in his lap, laying me down next to him so that I’m facing him.

“Hey, stop. What are you doing?” I ask, trying to push his hands off of me.

“Relax. You can’t sleep, so lie here with me.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

He chuckles into my ear. “Good, because you’re underage and I don’t want to go to jail.”

I pull back and look at his face. “Seriously? I’m only like a month from being eighteen and my mother wouldn’t even care, yet you’re worried you’ll go to jail?”

He pushes my head back down so it’s laying on his chest. “Are you trying to stop me from having sex with you or talk me into it? I’m confused.” Before I can respond, he answers my question. “I’m not really worried about going to jail. I could get out of it, but I have morals, you know. Even if you’re only two years younger than me, I’d wait until you’re legal.”

“I suppose that’s good to know?” I don’t hide the question from my voice.

“You asked a question. I answered.”

“Oh. So we are playing twenty questions. Hmm, why are you such a prick?” I tease.

I smile against his chest as I feel it rumble with his laughter. “I didn’t know I was one, so I can’t really answer that. I guess I should ask you what makes me a prick.”

“You’re cold and distant. You show no emotions and seem to have no care in the world for anyone, but yourself.” I pause. “Wait. That’s not true. You care for Nate.”

“It’s how it happened, I guess.”

“What’s that mean?”

“My turn for a question,” he says, skipping mine.

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