When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(20)

I inspect the new additions to Graham’s skin. The long sleeves he wears have kept them hidden. When we were in high school, he never once mentioned the desire to ink his skin, but always made small comments about my two tattoos.

“They all have a meaning?” I ask him.

He nods, holding his breath as my fingertip grazes the birds along his forearm. When I twist his arm to inspect the other side, he tenses. There’s a soft script along the outside I can’t quite read.

“What does it say?” I whisper.

Graham fidgets beneath me. “She’s the best kind of sleep.”

At his words, my heart quakes within my chest, and the blood beneath my skin rises a good twenty degrees at the memory. It’s one of the only moments from our Senior year where I remember feeling at peace. I still have the note he left on my pillow, tucked away in a box under my bed. “How do you manage to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make my heart not broken.” I bolt up and stare out the large window. The sweat multiplies as my hands wring together in my lap. “Somehow, you’ve always had this innate ability to make me feel like my past has been erased. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Lay down and try to figure it out.” Graham’s voice goes husky.

A rather amused part of me wants to turn around, straddle his lap, and ride him into the sunlight. I think better of it, and instead, listen to his instruction. Sex will complicate things, but I’d be lying to myself if I say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind at least once today.

My head falls softly onto his chest, and again, I trail my hand up and down until it stops along his waistband. My finger gingerly dips beneath the elastic, and I hear his loud intake of breath, but never hear his lungs exhale. I leave my hand there, allowing the warmth of his body to overtake me. My eyes flutter shut, and I welcome the sleep only he can bring.

*****

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” a voice whispers in my ear.

I jolt upright and find Amanda sitting on the edge of Graham’s mattress. My eyes shift sideways as he stretches out his arms beside me.

He smiles when his eyes finally focus on where I sit. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I say. My voice is raspy from being jerked from the best sleep I’ve had in some time.

“We must have fallen asleep,” he explains our compromising position.

“Uh huh.” Amanda stands and grins down at me. “Get up. Rico’s making breakfast, then we’re going to go out and have some fun.”

“Rick’s making breakfast?” I question, obvious surprise in my voice. “He doesn’t seem like the Betty homemaker type.”

Graham’s eyebrow quirks up. “You’d be surprised what he can do in the kitchen.”

“You’d be surprised what he can do in the bedroom.” Amanda wiggles her eyebrows and saunters out of the room with a sway in her hips.

“You don’t think she actually slept with him, do you?” I stand, being sure to hold the drawstring on the sweatpants.

“They don’t call him Rico Suave for no reason, so I assume he gave her the presidential treatment.” Graham shakes his head, amused by Amanda’s antics.

He stretches to his full height and kicks off the covers. As if me in his bed is a normal morning, he pulls his t-shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest. My heart aches from the sight. A copper flavor coats the inside of my cheek before I realize I’ve broken the skin.

Filled with a sexy confidence, he strides to the dresser and pulls out a clean white t-shirt. I silently beg for him not to put it on yet. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him in all his glorious form. A part of me yearns for the chance to get my hands on his smooth chest and inspect the new body he’s worked so hard for.

He peeks over his shoulder, and a sly smirk reserved only for me forms. “I could always tell when your eyes were on me.”

I take a step toward him. “Why do you think that is?”

He nods his chin my way. “You do it, too, you know?”

“Do what?”

“Sense me.” Graham inches my way, closing the gap a little more. “Junior year at the pizza joint, you got snotty with the waitress, but earlier, when I walked in, I stood by the door and you were laughing. God, your laugh has the ability to stop traffic. It’s contagious. After a while, I saw your back stiffen, and you turned to find me.”

“Veronica, the bitchy waitress. You know, Violet and I still laugh about that night.”

Graham turns his back to me. I don’t need to see his face to know what he’s thinking. His mind runs a mile a minute. “That was also the night you learned the kind of monster I’d been in the past.”

I step around him, desperate for my eyes to show the sincerity in what I say. “You’ve never been a monster. You simply wore the mask of one.” I shrug, believing every word. “And you know the beauty of masks, Graham?” I close the gap and rest my palm on his cheek. “Masks are easily removed.”

He averts his eyes, aiming them on his dresser. “Why have you always believed in me?”

“Because I’ve never stopped seeing you.” I drop my hand from his cheek and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’ve missed you, Graham, so much, sometimes it’s unbearable. Not a day goes by I don’t regret the day I pushed you away.”