Page 30 of Twisted Violet
Easy.
Gathering my nerves, I inch closer and reach over the back of the couch, straining to grab the corner of the blanket without waking her.
It’s too far.
Of course it is.
I circle around, stepping carefully to sit on the edge of the couch beside her and lean over to reach for it again.
That’s when she moves and rolls straight into me.
The weight of her body presses me back and her cheek lands against my chest with a soft thud.
Her arm drapes across my stomach like it’s done this a hundred times before. Like I’m hers to hold on to, like I always have been.
I freeze and look down at her.
Her face is right there. Her eyes are shut, her lips are parted, and the top of her forehead is pressed against the edge of my shirt collar.
My pulse spikes, and I can already feel the anxiety creeping up.
Don’t move, asshole.
Don’t breathe.
Don’t ruin this.
I glance at Ollie, desperate for a lifeline.
He’s watching from his spot next to her, head resting on his paws, staring up at me like he’s annoyed she’s snuggling up to me of all people.
I swallow hard, trying not to make a sound.
Her hand shifts slightly, fingers brushing thebottom hem of my t-shirt. She nuzzles in, just the tiniest bit, like even in sleep, she’s trying to get closer.
I should get up, I should move, but I don’t.
I just sit there, spine straight, muscles locked, like some kind of coward afraid of his own heartbeat.
I don’t even want anything more from her.
I just want…this.
One moment. One breath. One quiet second where I get to pretend I’m not completely gone for a woman who wants nothing to do with me.
She murmurs something against my chest.
“Rome.”
It’s soft, barely there, but my jaw tightens and my heart pounds in my chest.
She said my fucking name.
I know I shouldn’t read into it, but I do.
I stare straight ahead, eyes locked on the far wall like it’s gonna give me the answers I need. It doesn’t.
Neither does Ollie. He just yawns and closes his eyes, clearly over this scene.
