Page 30 of Waiting For Ever
“Okay?” He says it like a question and exhales loudly.
I continue before he can interject. “No. It’s not okay. I ran away from the only home I’ve ever known because I was labeled a slut and a home-wrecker. And maybe I am. Because I can’t remember what happened that night. And even though I’m still the dictionary definition of a virgin, I don’t feel like one when I’m with you . . . and I can’t be . . . I don’t want to be logical and responsible when you ‘help’ me.” I use quotes when I say it, staring blindly at my hands while he leans over me.
Another exhale escapes his lips before he responds. “Then let me be logical and responsible enough for both of us.” He stands up and moves in behind me on my bed, then brings my back up against his chest as he settles his against the tufted linen headboard. He places his hands over mine, interlocking our fingers, and wraps our arms around my waist with his on top of mine. He tucks my head under his chin. “I care about you, Ever. When I’m with you, I feel things I thought I’d never feel again. I want to stay away from you because you deserve better than me. And I don’t know what happened in Oak Valley, but you’re not a slut. Or a home-wrecker. I’d bet money on it. You’re perfect. Probably the most perfect girl I’ve ever met. Undeniably the most beautiful.”
“You’rebeautiful,” I barely whisper.
I know he hears me. The lazy circles his fingers were drawing on my hands stop with my words, then he squeezes them in his hands, slowly inching up to rub my arms. “We don’t have to rush this. We can go slow.”
“Between the bad dreams, the interruptions and bully cougars, I think we’ve covered slow. If we want to actually do anything, we may need to go off grid.”
Chuckling, he wraps his arms tighter around me. “Oh, sassy girl. What am I going to do with you?”
“Are you asking for suggestions?”
I’m rewarded with another low laugh and his arms squeezing me, but then my words sink in, and he leans his face down and tilts my chin so we can see each other squarely. “Wait. What bully cougars?”
Chapter 25
Julian
My dick wakes up before I do. More accurately, Ever wakes my dick up when she rolls over on top of me. She fell asleep with her head tucked under my chin last night, and once her breathing slowed to a rhythmic pace, it lulled me to sleep too. Not the most comfortable position I’ve slept in, but Ever between my legs, pressed to my chest, more than makes up for it.
I glance at her phone on the charger to check the time. It’s early. I’m careful not to move because I don’t want to wake her. The raging hard-on isn’t helping though. And I could really use the bathroom. I’m wondering how long I can hold it with her leaning on my bladder when I feel her head tilt up under my chin. Since she’s awake, I do what my fingers are aching to do. I run them through her hair, which always smells like sunshine and feels like silk. Swiping it off her neck to flow down her back, I look down into her sleepy gray eyes.
She smiles shyly at me. She’s always shy in the mornings.
That I know this little quirk about her makes my crotch tighten. I touch my lips to her forehead and rub my thumb up and down the spot behind her ear. “Hi, pretty girl.”
“Hi, Julie.” She dips her head back down to nuzzle under my chin as she answers.
“Sleep okay?” I ignore the ache in my crotch and aim for politeness.
“Mm, yeah. Thanks for . . . This couldn’t have been very comfortable for you. So thanks.”
“It was fine. Good. I slept well.” I’m awkward, tripping over my words.
“Liar.” She calls me out, her raspy voice making the ache in my crotch worse.
I chuckle at her sass. “No, it was fine. I swear. But I could use the, uh, restroom.”
“Oh, of course.” She rolls off me and the bed so quickly that she stumbles until she finds her footing. Realizing she doesn’t have anywhere to escape to, being we’re in her room, she looks at me and shrugs while her face blooms crimson.
Ugh, this sweet girl is breaking me. And I don’t care if I’m undeserving or if it makes me a selfish asshole. I want her. And I know it’s a matter of time before we cross that line. She wants me just as much, which makes the ache in my chest match the ache in my crotch.
I tap her on the chin as I head to the bathroom. I keep my other hand in front of my lower half to hopefully hide my morning wood, or at least not draw attention to it. After I take a piss and brush my teeth, I pace back and forth a few steps. Should I go back to her room and . . . check on her? I decide to go outside and absorb the crisp morning air instead.
After a few stretches and deep breaths, I lean on the railing, wondering how to make this girl mine. The tug of war inside my soul is slowly dying. My desire is no match for my conscience.
I hear Ever’s door and turn as she steps outside. Her hair is knotted on top of her head in a strategic messy bun, her face looks freshly washed and she’s dressed in leggings and a cropped hoodie. One of my favorite outfits of hers.
My hand immediately flies to my chest, making small circles over the tattoo. “I was just about to head down and make some coffee. Want some?” I ask to distract myself from the skin peeking out from the bottom band of her hoodie.
“Let’s go grab some in town before we head to Fit. Wanna?” She dangles what I assume are Allie’s keys.
“Sure. Let me throw on some clothes. Two minutes.” I’d go anywhere with her right now if she asked. Her capacity to compartmentalize and get on with her day amazes me. I know some of the shit that could easily jade her, the small amount she’s shared with me, but here she is, sunny and bright, asking me to coffee. She’d make a great first responder—the way she can tuck it all away. Maybe that’s why she gives old soul energy. Clearly this young beauty in front of me has lived before. I shake my head at my romantic musings.
Sweet Everly is turning me into a . . . poet? Dreamer?
