If You Fall

Eighteen

I woke up at noon. He was still asleep, his arm over my stomach, which made me hot and cold when I realized it. I didn't move an inch so as not to disturb him. Sunlight shone bright around the dark blue curtain on the window. I could hear voices from another part of the house, muted mumblings. 

My mind focused on Arianna, and her thing for my guy. I started to get pissed off but reminded myself of what he'd said, and more importantly at the moment, who had slept where the night before.

Good luck, bitch.

Triumph is a satisfying feeling and I reveled in it for about ten minutes and then someone knocked softly on the door. Irritation flooded me; if Reed was ready to be awake, he would be. "What?" I tried to call softly, but he was already stirring.

"Everyone's up," Dane said.

"'Kay," I told him, hoping my tone wasn't as rude as it sounded to me.

Reed rolled over onto his back with a groan, putting his arm over his eyes. Then he moved it and looked over at me, smiled, put his arm back. "You're here," he said, and I swear it was pure happiness in his voice and not my delusional thinking.

"I am," I said, equally joyful. I tried not to breathe on him before I could brush my teeth.

"I do not want to get up," he mused.

I thought of everything we had to face today. "Right?"

"Is there any water?"

I had a bottle in my purse and I reached down to get it. I handed it to him, fixing my hair. He was, of course, on my right side.

"Thank you. Now I just need a shower and coffee. Not necessarily in that order." He took a deep breath and pushed the covers back.

I looked away from him in his boxers, if only so he didn't turn around and catch me with a look on my face I would be hard put to explain.

"You want to take a shower first, chérie? I'll go get some coffee for us, talk to all the people, come back?"

I actually wanted to shower together, but whatever. "Yeah," I said eloquently. Now I was nervous about leaving the room.

"Would you like one of my shirts to wear?" His mouth quirked.

I punched him in the arm. "Don't flatter yourself." I did, but I wasn't going to. We were supposed to be grown folk.

So he went out and I got in the shower, thankful I had my shampoo and conditioner with me because my hair was long and I couldn't wash it with just anything. I got out and did my makeup with my hair in a towel after dressing.

He came back in with two mugs and handed me one. "We don't have any vanilla creamer here yet, but I put a bit of vanilla and more than a bit of half and half in it." He put his on the nightstand and took my brush from me.

"Can we just stay in here all day?" I asked anti-socially. "Also, I have some questions."

He sat to my right and began brushing my hair. Good hair products aside, it was pretty fine and tangled easily when it was wet. "I have some answers. Hopefully."

I drank some coffee, and it was heavenly. "My beautiful house, that I love a lot?"

He let out a bunch of air. "I don't know yet. If we can take care of the threat, it should be okay again."

It was a little chilling how he was just chatting about killing people. "Yeah, totally weird," I admitted.

He stopped brushing. "I know. Does it . . . do you look at me differently?"