Page 93 of Top Shelf
Don’t they know that’s exactly what I want? To keep her in my bed? In my penthouse? To…well, to justkeepher? That thought is scary as hell, but it’s an honest one.
I keep hold of it as we finally climb onto the plane and settle into the comfy seats for the long flight to Seattle. That’s the worst part about being on the coast, having to play games on the opposite ones and deal with the long-ass trips back home. But if it means I’m getting closer to Nessa, I’ll endure anything.
I pull my phone out and grin at the text waiting for me. It’s from her, just a simple smiley face, but I know what it means—she’s waiting up for me.
“Hey.”
I flip my phone over just as Hutch settles into the seat next to me.
“Uh, hey,” I say back, looking around. Maybe the other spots are taken? But nope. There are plenty of empty ones. “What’s up?”
“Just felt like hanging out with someone mature for a change.” He settles back into the seat, stretching out his long legs. “Plus, Lawson is watching Rory sleep, and it’s kind of creepy. She’s almost my sister-in-law.”
“Howareyou feeling about the upcoming wedding? Just under three months now.” I’m sure it has to bring up some feelings for him since the last time he tried to get married, the bride never showed.
“Me?” He grins. “Oh, I’m fucking great. I cannot wait to marry Auden.” He laughs quietly. “It’s so funny. I never thought I’d be in this position again. I thought I swore off relationships forever after everything that went down all those years ago, but I’m so glad I didn’t. She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And it’s the little things, too. Like the way she smiles at me in the morning, or how she always wears those ridiculous sweaters that make no sense because they make her sister happy. You know what I mean?”
Oh, I know what he means all right. It’s the same way with Nessa. The small things that shouldn’t matter somehow do. Like how she always tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. Or how she feeds Pearl and Rufus and Sir Fishsticks the Fourth with such concentration, her lip between her teeth, always making sure they each get their fair share. Or how she always grabs a pack of cinnamon gum when she grocery shopsbecause she knows it’s my favorite. It’s all the little things that make me feel things for her I really should not be feeling.
“What’s the look for?” Hutch asks, brows pulled tight together as he watches me closely.
“Huh? What look?” I try to play it off, though I have no doubt I definitelydidjust have a look. I’ve caughtmyselfwith too many goofy expressions since Nessa came along.
He studies me for what feels like far too fucking long.Shit. He knows. He fucking knows, and I’m trapped on this plane with him, and he’s going to murder me. Fuck, fuck, fuck.But instead of pulling out a knife and ramming it into my gut, he shakes his head with an easy smile.
“Nah, nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.” He scrubs his hand over his face. “Did I mention I can’t wait to get home?”
He closes his eyes, and I release the breath I was holding. He falls asleep shortly after, leaving me with my thoughts.
I need to tell him. The longer we let this go on, the worse it’s going to be whenever Hutch does find out. And he will. I know he will. Secrets always have a way of coming out. Hell, look what happened with Nessa and her shitty ex. He thought he was hiding that so well, and one slip-up later, it was all over.
I don’t want that—to be over. I want… Fuck, I think I wantmore. I want real. I don’t just want rolling in my sheets without anyone else knowing how damn happy she makes me. I want to tell the world, and that starts with me telling her brother.
Not now, though. But soon. Very soon.
The rest of the flight passes in a blur, and we’re landing back in Washington before I know it. I wave goodbye to the assholes I’ve spent the last twelve days with, then hop into my AMG and gun it for home.
Lights are on when I push the door open, and I hear her tablet playing in the background. I drop my bag and slip my shoes off, expecting her to come running to me any moment.
But she doesn’t. I find her curled up on the couch, fast asleep. I’m not surprised. I’ve picked up on her habit of sleeping out here when I’m on the road. I hate that she’s not getting good rest without me, but I also find it sweet as hell. I’d do the same thing if roles were reversed.
I stand there staring at her for far too long, just watching her. She looks so beautiful in the glow of whatever movie she was watching on her device. The lights dance across her cheeks, highlighting her long lashes that fan out against her skin. Eventually, I drop to my haunches, then brush an errant hair from her face. She stirs and her forest eyes flutter open, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Hey,” she says, her voice thick with sleep. “Aw, did I fall asleep? I’m sorry, I tried to stay awake. I just?—”
Her words are cut off by a yawn, and I chuckle.
“It’s fine. It’s late, and I know you worked earlier.”
“I did, but it wasn’t just that. I spent a few hours at the coffee shop down the street drawing. It got too loud, though, even with my headphones, so I left.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you had someplace quiet.”
“Me too. Maybe when I get my own place.”
She says it so casually that it nearly knocks me over. I don’t want her to get her own place. I want this to be her home too, but I don’t say so. She’s clearly not interested in that.
“Yeah, maybe.” I brush my lips across her forehead. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
