“Like a fleece blanket?”
“Yeah.”
“I do. I’ll be right back.”
Still naked, he gets up, and Lord have mercy, that man has one fine ass. I silently curse the lack of power, wishing I could watch that fine ass walk all the way down the hall to the linen closet. Less than a minute later, he comes back with a soft fleece blanket that feels super snuggly. He hands it to me, and I wrap it around my shoulders, needing to have the softness against my skin and then the top sheet.
“I promise I’m very laid back,” I say as I adjust the covers. “But when it comes to sleeping, I’m a bit of a princess.”
“I hope this lives up to your expectations then, your majesty.” He gets back under the covers and wraps his arm around me.
“Oh, it does. Though I don’t have my sleep mask or white noise,” I laugh, though I really do need those two things to have a good night’s sleep. “And if I remember, I take melatonin before getting into bed too. Working nights and then switching to the day shift can mess up my sleep schedule. I’m a little high-maintenance, I know.”
“Yeah, it would make it hard to sleep switching your schedule around. And if you think that is high-maintenance…” He trails off and chuckles.
“What?” I ask, settling in his arms.
“Then you’re not high-maintenance at all. I like to have white noise at night too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I usually listen to thunderstorm sounds.”
“I alternate between that, crickets, and new-age music.”
“The wind will have to do tonight,” he says, sounding like he’s on the verge of falling asleep. I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’ll have trouble sleeping either. My eyes close and Dean tightens his hold on me.
I don’t like the quiet at night because it freaks me out. I overanalyze every little noise, thinking there are ghosts in my apartment or someone is trying to break in. And my mind wanders too easily at night, winning at the what’s the worst thing that could happen, no matter how unlikely game. Having the soft background noise helps to quiet my thoughts.
“Goodnight,” I whisper, slipping my arm out of the blankets so I can intertwine my fingers with Dean’s.
“Night, Blaire,” he mumbles, half asleep already.
His words are like a slap to the face all over again, and my eyes fly open.
Right.
I lied, and I can’t tell myself it doesn’t matter.
Because it does. The sex. The conversation. The pie. The sex again. It’s not just me confusing sex with emotions. Dean is a guy I want to see again.
Letting out a breath, I try to settle back down, but this time I can’t quiet the voices in my mind. I lie in bed, physically as comfortable as ever, but can’t fall asleep.
Careful not to wake Dean, I climb out of bed, keeping the blue blanket around my shoulders. I pad down the hall and downstairs, getting my phone out of my wristlet.
I tap the screen and squint, the light too bright for my eyes. I pull up my texts as I hurry to the bathroom, typing out a message to Lennon as I walk. I sit on the closed toilet seat, shivering already, and let out a breath, shaking my head at myself.
Mason texts me, making me think something terrible happened. But then I see that I accidentally texted him the message of I royally fucked up instead of Len, since he was the last person to text me.
Mason: What did you do now?
Me: Sorry. Meant to send that to Len
Mason: Are you in trouble?
Me: Not the kind of trouble you’re thinking of.
Mason: But you’re okay?
I send a rolling eyes emoji and let out a breath.
Mason: What’s going on, Rory? It’s the middle of the night.
Me: I’m fine.
Mason: You’re fine but you royally fucked something up and are texting Lennon about it in the middle of the night?
Me: Fine. I did mess up, but trust me, you don’t want to know about it.
Mason: Now I have to know about it.
I let out a heavy sigh, knowing Mason isn’t going to leave me alone until I give him enough of an answer to convince him that I’m not tied up in some psycho’s basement.
Me: It’s about a guy. I’ll talk to Len about it in the morning. It’s fine, really. Just me being me.
Mason: Did he hurt you?
Me: No. Really, I’m fine.
Mason: When girls say they’re fine, it’s always bullshit. You’re a girl.
Me: Great observation there.
Mason: Shut up. But if you need anything, I’m here, Rory.
I smile and go to type a simple thank you but stop. It’s no secret that Mason is a fan of no-strings romance. He’s my brother and discussing anything romance related was always a no-go, but my stomach is in knots and I don’t know what to do.