Come to Me Quietly(32)

I hadn’t allowed myself to miss many things while I was away, but this… this was one of them.

I had to admit now that I’d missed Christopher, too.

And I’d missed her.

I stood and dusted off my pants, reaching a hand down to her. “Come on, Aly.”



She didn’t hesitate to accept my hand. Her shy smile told me everything. She liked touching me every bit as much as I liked touching her.

Fuck.

This was so very bad.

My muscles flexed along my arm as I pulled her to standing, and her feet came to hold her weight, although for a few seconds I didn’t let go. Finally I forced a casual smile and dropped her hand. Pretending to be the gentleman my mom had always hoped I would be, I slid the door open for her. “After you, Aly Cat.” Of course, I couldn’t keep out a little tease.

She slugged me on the arm as she passed. “See? You are a jerk.”



The next night I sat on the opposite end of the couch from Aly, who was curled up on her side. Those long legs were bent, her knees tucked up close to her chest with her head propped on a pillow that she’d taken three minutes to situate on the armrest. The lights were off, and the television flickered in front of us.

Aly’d gotten off work about an hour before. She’d walked through the door looking exhausted, which she’d confirmed when she dropped the huge-ass bag she always carried on the floor with an exaggerated sigh and followed it up with “I’m exhausted.”



Apparently I was perceptive.

Probably too perceptive because I couldn’t help watching her now. My side was pressed up against the opposite armrest, as far as it would go, while my eyes were constantly drawn toward her. She was relaxed, and looked engrossed in the TV show, although she was probably close to slipping into sleep. She kept shifting her legs, burrowing deeper into the couch, sinking farther into comfort.

How messed up was it that I really wanted to burrow into her comfort, too?

I shook my head and forced myself to look back at the TV.

About half an hour later, the door opened behind us, and I could hear mumbled voices right outside the door. It was easy to make out Christopher when he whispered, “It’s fine. You can come in.”



Christopher slipped in the door, leading this dark brunette toward the hall by the hand. Her eyes widened as she stole a glance in our direction; then she ducked her head and studied the floor. Christopher didn’t even bother with introductions.

In the last week, the guy’d had more girls in this apartment than I could count, and he kicked them out just as fast as he dragged them in. I mean, I had a pretty bad record, or a pretty good one, depending on how you looked at it. But there was something about this that was different. Something that made me feel sympathy for the girls. For him, it seemed a game, kind of like the poker he’d slung last night. Deceitful.

When Christopher’s door snapped closed, Aly lifted her head to look at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”



I lifted an eyebrow her direction. “Dude is kind of a slut, isn’t he?”



She quieted a dubious laugh. “Tell me about it. I had no idea I was going to have to deal with this every night when I first moved in here.”



I had the urge to ask her about it, to find out if she was worried and if Christopher was happy or what the f*ck his problem was. Instead I kept my mouth shut, figured I was hardly in a position to judge Christopher’s behavior.

The movie played on, but it did nothing to drown out the giggles emanating from Christopher’s room. I turned up the volume, but still they were distinct, probably because as much as we didn’t want to, Aly and I couldn’t stop straining to listen.