Page 3 of The Mountain
What do I say to them? What does someone say, in a moment like this?
Eddie’s words rattle around in my mind, the uncomfortable truth of what happened to me settling like ice against my bones. Of what could have happened to me, if these guys hadn’t been there. If Eddie hadn’t been there. And Seth.
Because I can remember—even if some of the memories are more dream than reality. I can remember Seth’s face, twisted with rage, his features almost unrecognizable. I can remember Tom’s muted cries, and the flecks of blood, stark on the white tiles.
“She’s shaking,” Antoine says, his voice low, the feel of it vibrating against my back. “What should I do?”
“Get her back under the covers,” Liam orders, and almost instantly Matty is leaping up, taking the glass from my hands, then helping Antoine pull me back into bed.
My bladder twinges in protest, the denim jeans I’ve been sleeping in all night suddenly painfully uncomfortable. I whimper. I want to be in my comfy clothes. My delightful gray sweats and a soft T-shirt—or even better, my pajamas.
Except all my clothes are in my room, and there is no way in hell I’m going in there. Not if Tom is still in there.
“Bathroom,” I say, pushing feebly against Matty and Antoine as they attempt to stuff me under the covers. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Matty’s blue eyes fly open with alarm, and he throws the blankets off me, nearly shoving Antoine in the process before bending down and scooping me out of the bed.
“Really?” I say, pulling back just enough to look up at him, but his jaw is set, the usual soft smile replaced by implacable determination.
“Eddie said to take care of you,” Matty says, with all the self-assuredness of someone following orders.
I roll my eyes, then instantly regret it when the walls start to spin. “Fine.” I tuck my hands under my chin, pressing my face against Matty’s chest. He smells good, the hint of some body spray mixed with sweat. It’s masculine and familiar and safe.
…
When I wake up the second time, the world feels like a better place.
I’m wearing Liam’s shirt and boxers, and the blankets are pulled up to my ears. A strong body cocoons my own, thick legs twining with mine beneath the blankets. The pounding behind my eyes is gone, the bitter taste on my tongue replaced with the lingering remnants of toothpaste.
I like all you guys a lot.
My half-drugged admission echoes in my mind, but it doesn’t seem so terrifying now.
“You’re awake.” Matty’s voice is a low rumble against my chest, and my eyelids flutter open to see his gentle blue eyes mere inches from my own. His breath fans against my face, warm and sweet.
Was he watching me sleep?
“Uh-hmm,” I agree.
Vaguely, I’m aware of another body pressed against my back, an arm banded around my waist, breath warm against my neck.Antoine.
After my trip to the bathroom, the four of us had climbed into Eddie’s bed. An impressive feat, considering it’s just a queen-sized mattress on the floor. I roll onto my back, twisting to look behind me, smiling at the sight of Liam sleeping pressed against the wall, with Antoine between us.
“How are you feeling?” Matty asks.
I turn to offer him a grateful smile. “Good,” I say honestly. “Better.”
“Thank goodness.” A warm smile curves his lips, giving just the faintest flash of dimples. He reaches up, one callused hand swiping errant strands of hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. “I’m so glad, baby.”
Baby.
My eyelids flutter shut, warmth pooling low in my belly at those words, at his innocent touch, and the feel of his body againstmine. Need flutters deliciously, a heady, dizzying yearning that almost has the room spinning again.
I want him, this giant of a man. This kind, gentle human who’s been nothing but sweet to me since he met me.
Matty’s hand drops to my neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath my ear. Behind me, I hear Liam grumble, and Antoine shifts closer to me in response, as if trying even in his sleep to make Liam more comfortable. The move has Antoine’s hips coming flush against my backside, his hand dropping from my waist to my hip. Antoine rocks forward, a sleepy movement without any finesse, and there is no mistaking the hard length pressing against me.
I gasp, the sound breathy and catching in my throat. Matty’s hand stills against my neck. “You okay, baby?” he asks, brow dipping with concern. My eyes drop to his lips, those full, soft lips, and I give a wordless nod.
