Come to Me Quietly(42)



Since we’d watched that movie in an attempt to drown out another of Christopher’s conquests, Jared had snuck into my room every night. Two weeks had passed since the night after when he’d first touched me, the hand on my face rocking something loose deep inside me. Every night he’d come to me, his knuckles lightly rapping against my door before he would silently enter into the dimness of my room. He always came when it was late, an hour or two after I’d told him and Christopher I was going to bed. I’d say good night, then lie awake in my room listening as the apartment slowly fell into silence. It was as if I could anticipate him in the moment before he knocked on my door from, a subtle tension filling the space as I waited. Why he felt the need to sneak into my room, I didn’t really know. But it was like he got it, too. The time we spent together felt like something that was our own, a secret shared between friends as the trust between us grew. I’d come to expect him just as much as he seemed to expect me, and a slow trust had begun to build between us.

We’d talk for hours about nothing and everything. I’d glide along the banks of his sadness, dipping my toes to test the water but without ever diving into the torrent where I knew Jared continued to drown. My mouth was continually dry, begging to be opened, to ask the questions I so desperately wanted to know.

But I was scared, didn’t want to douse this weak flame that had been lit. If I pushed him beyond the place he seemed comfortable taking me to, I was sure he’d stamp the fire out just as quickly as he’d struck it.

The worst of it was how badly I ached, and each night it only grew. I wanted him, more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. It didn’t help that he was constantly brushing his fingers along my face, weaving them through my hair as he wound my confusion higher.

But it never went past that.

Megan tilted her head as she dug a little, a whisper of a grin threatening at her mouth. “Is he hot?”



“Megan,” I scolded, before I laughed and shook my head. Slanting my eyes in her direction, I gave in. “Incredibly.”



It felt really good to admit it. To hell with raising suspicions.

She snorted and sat back in her chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before, Aly Moore.”



“I’m not blushing,” I insisted, even though I could feel the heat on my cheeks. Damn it. “It’s just hot out here.”



“Sure it is.” Her smirk deepened before she gentled it into a smile. “I’m glad your best friend is back, Aly… even if he is encroaching on my best friend territory,” she teased, although there was nothing that even suggested jealousy in her words.

It wasn’t hard to see why she’d so easily become mine.

Megan and I parted with a huge hug in front of our cars. “See you soon,” I said before I dropped into the driver’s seat of my car and headed home. Anticipation spurred me forward. Going home had become what I looked forward to most.

Was it ridiculous I could hardly wait to see Jared again?

Maybe.

But like I’d told Megan, I had no idea how long he would stay, how much time I’d be granted.

I wanted every second I could get.

Pulling through the apartment gates, I wove through the complex and parked in my space. My steps were light as I crossed the pavement. The sun hung low on the horizon, the evening’s promise of the coming darkness. Pink rays stretched far across the sky, painted the clouds every color of pink and blue and orange. The edges of the clouds lit like a burning rim of fire before they were swallowed by the approaching night.

A. L. Jackson's Books