Priceless (Forbidden Men #8)(32)

I shuddered from the love and peace his words wrought, and commanded myself to feel no depression whatsoever just because he only saw me as a friend. He was the best friend I’d ever had or ever could have, and I was honored to be just that. Especially when he cupped my face, looked into my eyes, and added, “This right here—every single piece of you—is very precious cargo to me. If anyone mistreated it, I’d lose my shit. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my sanity. You’re priceless, Sarah.”

Closing my eyes, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to the center of his chest. “Stop. You’re making me feel like crap for not telling you about this sooner.”

“Well, you should. I know I can be overbearingly protective, but I always want you to be happy. And if dating this douche makes you happy, then...okay. When are you going out with him?”

“If you insist on calling him a douche, I’m not telling you.”

Grasping my chin, he lifted my face until our gazes met. Then he arched an eyebrow and tried to look all fatherly. “Sarah.”

I laughed in his face and shoved at his chest, because I couldn’t help but love him even when he irritated me. But honestly, I wasn’t going to tell him anything about my date. “You’re so annoying. I assume you’re staying the rest of the night.”

There. A subject change ought to get his mind off my love life—though I still couldn’t believe I might actually have one.

“Hell, yes, I’m staying the rest of the night. Who knows how much longer we have before your boyfriend gets all jealous and forbids me to visit or even be your friend anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if that would ever happen.” Crawling off my bed and into my wheelchair, I grabbed my nightshirt and shorts off my dresser before rolling toward the door to change in the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

“It could happen,” Brandt called after me, and he sounded worried enough that I bit my lip after I closed the door behind me.

His worries weren’t completely unfounded, but I’d always feared it’d be the other way around, that Brandt would fall for a girl he liked more than me, and then he’d never come visit anymore, he’d stop cuddling with me at night, and eventually, our friendship would die out completely. But him being afraid that I would be the one to meet a guy I liked more than him just seemed ridiculous.

When I re-entered the room a few minutes later, Brandt’s shoulders fell when he saw me. “You already brushed your hair.”

We both knew I’d been able to improve my motor function enough to brush my own hair years ago, but Brandt liked messing with it so much, he usually brushed it for me on the nights he came over.

Tonight, for my own peace of mind, I couldn’t let him. I always got the feels when he brushed my hair, and I needed to stay away from such intimacy.

That was why I’d accepted Seth’s date, as a way to resolve myself to the fact I would never be anything more to Brandt. I needed to stop pining and stalling my own life and try to start living it.

But Brandt’s puppy-dog eyes were telling me he feared the end of our friendship was already beginning just because I hadn’t let him brush my freaking hair. So I avoided eye contact as I turned off the light and wheeled to the bed. He already sat on the mattress under the covers and when I approached, he scooted over to give me room.

I paused to set the alarm earlier than usual so he’d have time to leave before my family woke. There was no reason for him to sneak in and out of my room now that we were twenty-two, but I think it’d just become a habit for him, so he kept doing it. I wasn’t complaining since I liked it too; it was our thing.

Besides, Brandt Gamble was an amazing cuddler. He was everything safe, and comfortable, and familiar. Once I crawled in beside him and landed on my side, facing away, he curled up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. With a happy sigh, I closed my eyes and sank into my pillow.

“You know,” he said into the dark, not ten seconds later. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. That whole hype of needing to lose it by a certain age is utter bullshit. I actually respect people who want to wait until they find true love. And honestly, sex really isn’t all that.”

“Oh yeah?” I murmured, amused he was still so worried about losing me. It was funny that he even thought that was possible.

“It’s not,” he muttered grouchily. “It’s just skin slapping against skin, strange, uncomfortable positions, bodily functions flinging everywhere, hurt feelings when one person feels more than another one does. Not glamorous at all when you come right down to it. It’s really kind of...disappointing.”

Snickering, I tucked my hands under my chin. “Then why aren’t you a virgin?”

He sniffed. “Maybe I am.”

“Oh, really?” With a laugh, I wiggled out from under his arm so I could roll around to face him in the dark. “So you were never with Shayla Birmingham? Hope Deardon? Rachel—”

“What? How did you— Damn,” he grumbled something I didn’t catch before asking, “How did you know about them?”

“Because I’m not stupid. I know what your real problem is, anyway.”

He lay close enough that I could feel his body tense before he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a problem. Other than concern for you, of course.”