Tall, Tatted and Tempting(15)

Kit smiles and looks over my shoulder. Matt is up, and he looks like death warmed over. “I third,” he says as he sits down in a chair and puts his face in his hands.

Paul shrugs. “It’s fine with me,” Paul says. “But it’s Logan’s call. It’s his bed.”

Paul leaves to get ready for work. I have to do the same, but I don’t have to go in until eleven. Paul goes early every day because he has to do paperwork.

Kit gets a ginger ale from the fridge and pours it into a glass. She hands it to Matt and he smiles faintly, and says, “Thank you.” She doesn’t say anything back, but she squeezes his shoulder. What’s going on with the two of them? He won’t let us do a damn thing for him, but he’s letting Kit get him something to drink?

She smiles and walks back to the bedroom, taking her coffee with her.

“She’s going to break your f*cking heart, man,” Matt warns after she closes the door.

I know. She’s going to break my f*cking heart. Because I’ve never wanted anything with anyone the way I want something I can’t even define with her.





Emily



Waking up in his arms was one of the best moments of my life. I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to stay like that forever. So when he asked me questions about how we came to be tucked into one another, I pretended like I was asleep and rolled over, hoping he would wrap his arm around me. He did. He wrapped his whole body around me. I purposefully chose to turn away so I wouldn’t have to explain. Because I didn’t want to tell him about how I felt him when he got in bed with me. Or how I reached out to touch him in the night, and he let me put my head on his chest.

I didn’t intend to wrap my body around him, but he didn’t seem displeased by it. If the tent in his boxers was any indication, he was very pleased by it.

But even after, he was nothing but respectful about my body.

I come out of his bedroom dressed in my school girl outfit. It’s clean now, so I didn’t mind putting it back on. Aside from the fact that putting it on means I’m leaving his apartment. My bag is over my shoulder and my guitar case is in my hand. No one is there aside from the two of us. Paul went to work an hour ago. And Matt is staying home today, I’m sure. He’s too sick to hold his head up, much less go work with the public. He must be in his room, because Logan is sitting at the table reading the newspaper. He looks up when I walk out of the bedroom, and his face falls.

He makes a gesture with his hands like he’s asking me what.

“I have to go,” I explain. I hold up my guitar. “I have to go to work. And you have to go to work. And I’m sure you don’t want me hanging out while you’re not here. What if I steal something?” I try to laugh it off, but he’s not amused.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. “Stay.” He gets up and comes to stand in front of me.

I hold up the guitar again. “I can’t. I have to work.” I only have thirty two dollars to my name. I can’t find a decent place to stay on that. Not even for a night.

Like he can read my mind, he pulls out his wallet and flips it open. He takes money out of it and tries to press it in my hand. I can’t take his money. “Stay,” he says. He wants me to stay instead of going to busk for change.

I shake my head. It’s hard to explain it to him. I want so badly to stay. But I can’t. I can’t get comfortable anywhere. Because tomorrow, I might have to leave again. “Thank you for letting me sleep here,” I whisper. I know he can’t hear the quality of my voice, but he can still read my lips. He tips my chin up with his forefinger under my jaw so that I look at him. “Thank you,” I repeat.

“Come back tonight?” he asks. He’s holding my hand, his thumb swiping back and forth across the surface of it. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I promise.”

I look up at him, swallowing hard. “I liked it when you were in the bed with me,” I admit.

His eyes narrow and he looks closer at me than I think anyone ever has. But he doesn’t say anything else.

“I think I’m in like,” I admit softly. That’s probably the wrong thing to say. But I need to tell him. I didn’t just use him for a place to sleep. I genuinely could care about him if my situation was different. But it’s not. And I can’t.

He doesn’t understand the terminology, I think, because he looks confused. “What?” he asks.

“I think I’m in like,” I repeat. But he still looks just as confused.

He looks like he’s going to get Matthew to translate. I stop him by jerking on his arm. “I like you,” I say clearly. “That’s why I’m leaving. I wouldn’t be any good for you or for your brothers. I like you too much to stay.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he says.

Yeah, it’s ridiculous. But he doesn’t know where I come from. He doesn’t know how many people are looking for me and why. And when he does find out – I have no doubts that he will – he’ll hate me for not telling him everything up front.

“Have dinner with me?” he says, his brows shooting up. He looks hopeful, and that’s not what I want for him. He bends his knees so he can look into my face. “Dinner?” he repeats, like I might not have understood him. “A date,” he says. “Go on a date with me.”