As we stepped in through the front door, Sarah looked up from her dusting task, and a large, predatory smile crept onto her face. Ashton sighed next to me but smiled back. When she set down her duster and sauntered towards him, swaying her hips, something settled in the pit of my stomach, something unfamiliar and unwelcome. My eyebrows knitted together when I realised that it was actually a slightly jealous feeling. The feeling actually scared me because in spending the day with him and getting to know him a little, I realised that I actually enjoyed his company. That was the worst thing that could happen to me. I didn’t want to spend time with people, grow to like them and let them into my life, only to have them march right out again and leave me. For the last few years, since Jack had died, I’d deliberately alienated myself so that wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t get hurt again, so this was like a pre-emptive strike before they abandoned me.
Clenching my jaw, I shook my head at myself and forced the jealous feeling away. There was no way in hell I was letting myself get jealous over a bodyguard; Sarah was welcome to him.
Needing to distract myself from the fact that I’d almost done the unthinkable and made a friend, I decided to go to the gym for a while. “See you later,” I muttered, stalking off to my bedroom as Sarah twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and looked at Ashton through her eyelashes. After changing into workout clothes, I marched downstairs and into the gym. Not bothering to stretch beforehand, I stepped onto the treadmill and turned it on slowly while I put on my iPod and cranked it up as high as I could stand.
My run started out at a gentle jog but, as usual, quickly changed into something else entirely. Running was my thing. Running made my body ache and gave me something to focus on when I was struggling to keep myself sane everyday. I gritted my teeth as my legs burned from the effort of running at a flat out sprint for over twenty minutes. I was going to have to stop soon.
Wanting to enjoy thinking about nothing other than the physical pain for a few minutes more, I cranked up the speed even faster. I was running so fast that I could barely keep up. I could only run for another couple of minutes before I started to get a little light-headed and my hands started to tingle, so I slowed it down until I could stop.
As soon as I stopped, my legs refused to support me any longer. I slumped to the floor gasping for breath as I put my head between my knees, listening to the lyrics of the Usher song I had blasting through my iPod. When the tingles had subsided from my fingers and I no longer wanted to vomit, I flopped back onto my back and closed my eyes.
Suddenly my earphones were pulled from my ears. Shocked because I hadn’t realised someone else was here, I opened my eyes to see Ashton standing over me, frowning. “Why do you do that to yourself? Shit, Anna, I watched you run as fast as you could for fifteen minutes and you were already sprinting when I came in!” he cried incredulously.
I gritted my teeth, ignoring his obvious agitation, and pushed myself up to sitting. “Whatever,” I dismissed. “Want to show me how you keep blocking my hits all the time?”
“You want me to fight you?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in disbelief.
“I don’t want you to hit me if that’s what you’re thinking, but I actually thought I was pretty good at self-defence until I met you,” I admitted.
He shook his head. “Anna, I think you need to rest, surely you’ve done enough for today,” he countered, his expression turning hard.
I stood up; my legs wobbled and threatened to give out on me. “Ashton, this is my routine, usually it’s a morning routine but I had somewhere to be this morning, so I’m doing it now instead. I always run then have a few minutes with the punch bag. If you want to help me then great, if you don’t then just get out and stop interrupting me before I cool down,” I growled as I pushed past him, grabbing the training gloves from the side and putting them on. I then proceeded to punch and kick the stuffing out of the punch bag.
He sighed. “I’ll show you a few things if you want. But you need to stop this. This isn’t good for you, you shouldn’t train like this. It’s crazy,” he replied sharply.
I huffed and turned around to face him. He wasn’t dressed for training; he was still wearing the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn to the lake. He took off his shoes and socks, and then his T-shirt and belt so he was just wearing his jeans.
He looked at me cockily. “Take your shoes off then, we’re only practicing, I don’t wanna get hurt.”
I smiled, knowing that he didn’t think I was going to be able to hit him. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t. I’d tried three times already and hadn’t gotten anywhere near him. I slipped off my shoes and walked over to the training mats.
I turned back to Ashton, who was standing there looking like a cocky, arrogant Greek God. “I’m gonna attack you and I want you to fight me off. You can really hit me, it’s fine. After, I’ll tell you where you can improve, okay?” he instructed, looking like he genuinely didn’t want to do this.
I nodded and waited for him to approach. When he moved towards me, I quickly ducked out of the way, kicking my leg out towards his stomach. His hand wrapped around my ankle, holding it still as he swept my other leg out from under me. I slammed back into the padded mat with him on top of me.
“Holy shit!” I gasped, trying to get the air back into my lungs. That was freaking awesome!
“You okay?” he asked, looking a bit concerned as he hovered above me.
I nodded. “Again,” I instructed, pushing him up. He shook his head, frowning, but helped me to my feet regardless of his noticeable unwillingness to do this.
Within a minute I was on the floor again. I groaned as I rolled onto my side and pushed myself to my feet. My whole body was aching from my run, but I refused to quit. I faced him, watching as he winced. “Again,” I barked, bringing my arms up to protect my face. He sighed heavily and moved to attack me.
After the fifth time of landing flat on my back, he pinned me to the floor, his body pressing into mine. “Enough now,” he said sternly. He wasn’t even slightly out of breath, whereas I was panting and sweating like a pig.
“No, not yet,” I whined, struggling to talk through my wheezy breath.
“That’s enough for today, Anna. I can’t do this. Look at you! If you want, I’ll teach you, but you need to slow down, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he protested.
“Just one more time. Please?” I begged, trying to wriggle my arms free.
“Okay, one more, if you’ll tell me why you do this to your body. Why do you train so hard?” he bargained, frowning.
I gulped, knowing I needed to tell the truth if I wanted him to train me. “I want to be able to defend myself, and if the time comes and I ever see him again, I want to be able to kill him,” I confided.
He blinked. “It looks to me like you’re trying to kill yourself too,” he observed, concern clear across his face.
I shrugged at his comment. “Whatever. Him, me, what’s the difference? Either way it doesn’t matter,” I retorted, turning my head away from his intense gaze.
He sucked in a shaky breath and his grip loosened on my wrists before he pushed himself up, pulling me to my feet. A pained looked was etched on his face as he spoke, “One more then like I promised, and then that’s it for today. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” I shifted into a slight crouch, preparing for him to attack me again.
He moved and came at me from the side. I quickly whipped around and landed a punch to his side, but he barely seemed to notice. Grabbing my shoulders, he knocked my feet out and we both landed on the floor within about five seconds.
A defeated tear fell down my face and he quickly wiped it away. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.
I shook my head. I wasn’t in pain; I just couldn’t believe that all this time I thought I was getting somewhere, that I would be able to inflict some real damage to Carter if I ever saw him again, and now nothing. I couldn’t even land a decent enough hit to cause any pain. My world was shattering around me; everything I’d worked for over the last three years, the hours of training I’d put in, they weren’t worth shit.
“I’m fine. Not hurt,” I croaked, willing myself not to break down.
“Then why are you crying?” he asked, wiping my tears away again.
“I just thought I’d be able to at least defend myself, but I can’t even do that!” I croaked, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to gain control of my emotions.
“Hey, you can defend yourself. You can. Anna, I’ve been trained extensively; I was the best in hand-to-hand combat in my year. I’m SWAT, Anna, you wouldn’t be able to beat me, but I’ll help you, I will. If you were fighting a normal guy, you could kick his ass, I swear,” he assured me, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
I groaned and closed my eyes. I didn’t even realise he was still on top of me until he put his head down in the crook of my neck and planted a soft kiss on my shoulder.
Shockwaves radiated through my whole body. I stiffened. “Get off, get off me, now!” I almost screamed. He jumped up and backed away quickly, his hands up, obviously trying not to scare me. I rolled to my side and pushed myself up. My whole body was shaking violently; I scooted to the wall and sat there watching him.
He slumped to the floor on the opposite side of the gym and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry; I don’t know why I did that. Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. I was okay, my body was shaking from the shock, but I was okay. “Don’t do that again,” I croaked around the lump in my throat. He shook his head quickly, watching me with caution.
My chin trembled as I pushed myself up to standing. Immediately, my weary body protested from the movement. I’d really overdone it this time. My legs were wobbly as I made my way out of the gym and up to my bedroom so I could take a bath. I focussed on the pain in my body so that I wouldn’t think about what had just happened. It worked, somewhat.
At seven thirty, I knew my presence was required downstairs, as usual. Dinner with the parents. “Hi, honey,” my mom chirped, as I walked into the formal dining room.
“Hey,” I grunted, plopping myself down at the table.
“Sweetheart, we invited Agent Taylor to dine with us tonight. He’ll be down in a minute,” my dad said, smiling awkwardly.
“Why? Why would you do that? You’ve never invited a guard to eat with us before,” I asked, a little annoyed.
“Well, he’s not like the normal guards, honey; he’ll be a lot more involved. He’s posing as your boyfriend so you two need to get to know each other ready for next week,” my mom replied, smiling cheerfully.
I frowned, trying to work out her apparent excitement. Just then he walked in and all eyes snapped to him. He was wearing black dress pants and a light grey button-down shirt. Obviously dressed to impress my father.
I sighed and averted my eyes, watching my mother who was grinning happily. “Good evening, Agent Taylor,” she smiled, nodding at him.
“Good evening, ma’am,” he greeted. My father stood and shook his hand. “It’s nice to see you again, sir,” Ashton said politely.
“You too, son. Have a seat there next to Annabelle,” my dad replied, pointing to the chair next to mine. I played with my napkin as Ashton sat down. I could feel his eyes on me, but I refused to look at him.
“Hi, Anna,” he said softly.
“Hi,” I replied, nodding in acknowledgement, still not looking at him.
“Are you okay? You know, after earlier?” he asked.
I forced a smile and looked over at him. His eyes were showing remorse, he was really feeling guilty; he was almost in pain by the look of it. “I’m fine, honestly.” I smiled reassuringly. He looked like he visibly relaxed and smiled back; he was probably relieved I hadn’t said anything to my father and ordered his transfer. “So, what’s for dinner tonight?” I asked, looking away from his beautiful green eyes and trying to change the subject.
“Er, well I think it’s steak,” my mom answered, sounding unsure.
I laughed. “Oh, Ashton only eats baked potatoes and cheeseburgers,” I joked.
He laughed too, shaking his head. “No, I said I only cooked baked potatoes. I eat anything,” he corrected, grinning.
I smiled and looked back seeing that my mother was watching me with wide, hopeful eyes. My easy smile faded because she was acting weird. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” There was definitely something going on.
“I just… I haven’t seen you laugh since before Jack…” she trailed off, her face falling as she probably realised what she was about to say.
I closed my eyes as understanding washed over me. “Right, since Jack died. Now I get it. That’s why Ashton’s been invited to dinner. You think that suddenly I’m gonna forget Jack and fall all over the hot new guard? Is that your plan?” I asked angrily, glaring at her.
She shook her head in response, wincing. “No, it’s just that we’ve been hearing stories all day, people have seen you making jokes, laughing and smiling. A couple of the staff said that they saw you two holding hands. Everyone’s just wondering, that’s all.”
I turned to my father. “And are you wondering, Dad? Planning on getting to know him better, check and see if he’s good enough for your fucked up daughter? What do you think? Does he get your approval?”
“Annabelle, that’s enough! You must be able to see our side, the first time you met him you shook his hand, for goodness’ sake. Do you know what I would give to be able to do that? To hold your hand, or kiss you goodnight? It’s strange for us to witness. We were just wondering if there was something going on, that’s all,” my dad countered, frowning guiltily.
I snorted, pushing my chair back making a loud scrape on the wooden floor as I stood up. “Yeah, there’s something going on,” I lied. “He’s a really good fuck; he made me scream good and proper. Is that what you wanted to hear? One great screw and I’m over Jack, all my problems just, poof, up into thin air. Are you fucking crazy?” I growled. I glanced down at Ashton, who looked so uncomfortable he was probably thinking about hiding under the table.
“Language, Annabelle! We raised you better than that,” my father chastised.
“Right, I forgot. I was raised better than that, but you know what? That daughter of yours died the day her boyfriend was murdered! The day everything went to shit, the day my whole fucking perfect life got turned upside down. I’m sorry that I’m not that person anymore, but I’m not going to suddenly get better just because I talked to a guy.” I took a deep breath before I continued my angry rant. “That girl you knew, she’s gone, and she’s not coming back. I wish you’d all get used to it and stop reading something out of nothing. This guy,” I pointed at Ashton, “he’ll be gone soon, just like all the others, and then you’ll be wondering what all the fucking fuss was about,” I growled, turning on my heel and walking out, leaving them all sitting there, staring after me with open mouths.
I stormed off to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and making it rattle on its hinges. Throwing myself down on the bed, I buried my face into a pillow and screamed until my throat was hoarse. I hated that they assumed things that I could never give. I hated that they still expected me to suddenly get over it and move on. I couldn’t move on, and I didn’t even want to try.
After a little while my stomach growled angrily, obviously chastising me for not waiting until after dinner before making my scene. I sighed and shook my head before getting up and searching out my sketchpad and charcoal before settling on the floor.
Sometime later, there was a knock at my door. “Go away!” I shouted.
Without permission, the door opened and Ashton walked in, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, I know you said go away but I’ve got something for you.”
I scowled at the intrusion. “Unless it’s a bottle of vodka, I don’t want it.”
“It’s better than a bottle of vodka,” he replied.
My interest was now piqued. “Really, what is it?”
He smiled and sat down next to me, crossing his long legs. He brought his arm out from behind his back and plopped a plate down in front of me. I gasped when I saw what it was, my mouth already filling with saliva at the thought of it. Chocolate fudge cake.
“You should’ve stuck around, the food was good,” he teased, smiling at me.
I burst into a fit of embarrassed giggles. “I’m really sorry about that, I can’t believe they did that, and then I said – well, you heard what I said. I’m sorry,” I apologised, grimacing.
He shrugged easily. “Hey, it could have been worse; at least you said I was a good fuck.”
Another round of giggles escaped as my face flamed with heat. “Sorry,” I muttered when I regained control of myself.
“No probs. I thought your dad was gonna kill me though. The look on his face!” he winced, shaking his head but looking amused at the same time.
“What did they say about me when I left?” I asked, cutting a chunk off the cake he’d brought.
“Not much, it was a little awkward. They mostly apologised for jumping to conclusions. They mean well; they’re just worried about you. I think they’re hoping that you’re going to get better, that there’s some magical cure out there and that one day you’re going to wake up and be their little girl again.”
“I’m not that girl anymore,” I muttered, eating the last mouthful of cake.
“I know that. I think they got their hopes up though.”
I nodded. I knew they wanted a quick fix, but I needed them to understand that I was broken and that no amount of fixing would ever make me right. There was always going to be a piece missing. Ashton cleared his throat.
“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. What I did in the gym, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again. It’s just that you were upset and I wanted to comfort you. It just happened, that’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said uncomfortably.
“Let’s just forget it, okay?” I suggested, shrugging it off.
He smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” He looked down and gasped. “Holy crap, that’s awesome!” he cried suddenly, picking up my sketchpad.
I looked down too; I had no idea what I had drawn because I wasn’t really paying attention. I looked at the page. It was the deck on the lake with the little row boat tied to the side of it; Ashton was standing on the deck running a hand through his hair. I gulped, embarrassed that I’d drawn a picture of him, half naked, and he’d seen it.
“This is incredible. You’re really talented, Anna. You want to be an artist or something?” he asked with wide eyes.
I nodded. “Yeah I guess.”
He was staring at the picture in apparent awe. “I’ve never had anyone draw me before.”
“You can have it if you want,” I offered, shrugging.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah sure, why not,” I said dismissively, taking the sketchpad and tearing it out.
He took it, smiling gratefully. “How come you’re not in it?” he asked, looking down at it again.
I shrugged. “How could I be in it? That’s my point of view, I can’t see myself.”
He smiled. “Right yeah, didn’t think of that. I wish you were in it though, that’d make the picture better.”
“Of course it would because I’m so beautiful,” I joked, shaking my head in amusement.
“Yeah, that’s right. Anyway, I’d better get going to bed, it’s getting pretty late.” He pushed himself up and was almost at the door when I remembered the photo that he was using as a bookmark.
“Oh, Ashton, wait, I’ve got something for you.” I crawled over to my desk drawer and pulled out the photo frame and bookmark that I sorted out for him earlier so that he wouldn’t have to ruin his photo. “Here.” I plopped the two items into his hands.
He looked down at them for a long time but didn’t speak.
I winced. He doesn’t like the frame. “Sorry it’s a bit girly. You don’t have to use it, I just thought it’d keep your photo safe, it obviously means a lot to you for you to bring it with you, so…” I trailed off, wishing I hadn’t given it to him in the first place.
His green eyes met mine, seeming like he was struggling to understand something. “This is great. Really thoughtful. Thank you, I love it.”
“No problem,” I replied uncomfortably, looking away from his intense gaze.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbled as he walked out of the door.
“Yeah, good night, and thanks for the cake,” I called, smiling gratefully. After changing into pyjama shorts and tank top, I climbed into bed, exhausted.
I’m sitting by the side of the pool. My arm aches. I look down at the enormous bruise that spreads across the top of my arm and covers my shoulder.
“There you are, Princess,” Carter says. My insides squirm as he sits down behind me on the lounge chair I’m stretched out on. “Mmm, you look good today,” he purrs, slipping his hand inside my bikini top to cup one of my breasts.
“Carter, please, my shoulder’s sore.”
He sighs dejectedly and pulls me back so I’m leaning against his chest. His other arm wraps around me, pinning me to him. “I love you, Princess,” he whispers in my ear.
Disgust washes over me and I struggle not to show it. “Love you too,” I choke out. I hate saying the words; each one feels like it rips my heart out. His arm tightens on me as he lets out a contented sigh and lies back to soak up the Miami sunshine. I take a deep breath, knowing this probably won’t end well, but I have to ask. “Carter, can I call my mom? It’s her birthday today. Please, baby?” I beg, closing my eyes.
His body stiffens and he pulls his hand out of my bikini top quickly. “Princess, for fuck’s sake, why do you have to ruin a perfectly good moment by talking about them? I’m your family now, they’re nothing to you! Why can’t you just be happy? I make you happy, don’t I? I give you everything, but you’re so fucking ungrateful!” he shouts, pushing me away from him and climbing off the sun lounger. His angry eyes latch onto mine and I try not to flinch.
I nod quickly. “You make me happy, of course. I just thought I could say happy birthday,” I reply quietly. Why, why did I do that? Why did I have to bring them up again? So stupid, Anna!
His face softens as he sighs and pushes me down on the sun lounger, climbing on top of me. “Tell me you love me again,” he purrs, dipping his head and kissing my neck.
“I love you,” I lie quickly, not missing a beat.
One of his hands pushes down inside my bikini bottoms, and I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re so hot, Princess,” he moans appreciatively. I close my eyes and turn my face away from his, not wanting to see him enjoy himself. “Tell me you’ve only ever loved me,” he instructs, tracing his tongue across the bruise on my shoulder.
My heart sinks as my blood seems to turn into ice in my veins. He is testing me again. “No,” I whisper. I won’t do that; I can’t do that to Jack.
His head snaps up, his eyes fill with rage. He looks so angry that I flinch. “Tell me you never loved him, Princess,” he growls through his teeth.
I shake my head sadly. “I can’t say that, Carter. I won’t,” I respond, knowing that he will beat me for it; he always does when I fail the test, but I can’t betray Jack like that. I hold my breath as he pulls his arm back and punches me full in the face.
I bolted upright, screaming. My breath was coming out in pants as I quickly put my head between my knees. Oh God, it was a dream! Just a dream. It’s over, I repeated over in my head.
My door slammed open and Ashton ran in with his gun and knife in his hands again, looking around my room. “You dreaming?” he asked, pointing his gun around my room. I nodded, and he visibly relaxed. “Shit! You need to stop doing this to yourself, I won’t let anyone hurt you, you have nothing to worry about,” he said fiercely.
He knelt down by the side of my bed, looking at me intently, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb across the back of it soothingly while I struggled to catch my breath.
When I calmed down, I looked at him apologetically. He looked so worried and concerned that I started to feel awful. “I’m sorry. I think you should change rooms,” I suggested weakly.
He stood up and walked quickly to the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he said as he walked out.
He came back less than a minute later with my book in his hand, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt. I frowned, silently wondering where he was going. Wordlessly, he gripped the back of my dresser chair and dragged it to the side of the bed, plopping himself down in it.
My eyes widened as I realised what he was doing. “No! No way, not again! Go to bed, Ashton, you’re not sitting in the chair all night again!” I protested, shaking my head adamantly. It was incredibly sweet of him, but he’d end up with a bad back if he sat up again all night.
He shrugged casually. “It’s fine, I’ll just sleep in the morning. We could make this work; I could go to sleep when we get in from school and then be up while you go to sleep in the night. It’ll work out fine,” he assured me, smiling.
I almost choked on air. He was offering to change his sleeping pattern because he thought it would help me? Clearly I’d underestimated what a nice guy he was. “No, just go to bed. This is my problem, not yours,” I retorted, angry at myself for disrupting his sleep.
He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s not up for debate. Now can you shush? I want to see if James kills Bella,” he scolded, glaring at me jokingly. I couldn’t help but laugh. He smiled. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?”
I sighed and flopped back into the bed, untangling myself from the sheets that had wrapped around me while I’d had my nightmare. I was disgusted with myself for being so screwed up that I was keeping someone else awake all night. I glanced over at him; he was reading with a small smile on his handsome face. It was hard to believe that real people actually looked like him.
After about ten minutes of trying, I couldn’t make myself fall asleep. I couldn’t let him do this, it wasn’t fair on him. It was my fault, yet he was paying for it. He’d probably end up falling asleep awkwardly again, and his back would ache all day tomorrow. The only solution I could see that might work was if I just let him sleep in here with me, maybe that would stop the dreams and then he’d be able to sleep too. The thought of him in my bed scared the life out of me. The only guy I had ever slept in a bed with was Carter; I shuddered and pushed the thoughts of him away quickly.
I took a deep breath and sat up, scooting to the far side of the bed so I wouldn’t be near him. “Ashton, just get in the bed,” I instructed.
One of his dark eyebrows rose in question. “Huh?”
I sighed deeply, trying to keep my nerves under control. “Look, just get in the bed, okay? I’m not letting you sit awake all night because I’m some kind of freaking psycho. If you want to stay in here so I don’t dream about him, then fine, but you’re not sitting in the chair all night,” I said sternly. He looked completely unsure; his wary expression told me that he thought I’d lost my mind. “Let’s just give it a try, okay? If I can’t handle it then I’ll let you know, but this just seems to be a good solution – one that involves us both getting some sleep,” I encouraged, patting the empty side for him to get in.
“But I really wanted to know if Bella gets killed,” he whined jokingly.
I rolled my eyes. “She’s in the next three books if that gives you a clue,” I retorted, laughing.
He gasped and looked at me with mock horror. “I can’t believe you just ruined the end for me!” He moved and sat on the bed slowly, still watching my face.
I laughed. “Right, sorry about that, Pretty Boy.” I settled myself on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as I could get without falling out.
He lay down on top of the sheets cautiously, watching my face the whole time. “You sure this is okay? I mean, I don’t mind staying awake,” he offered.
“Just stop would you? It’s fine.”
He grinned and reached over, turning off my bedside light so that darkness cloaked my room. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay in control of myself. It was weird being in a bed with him. He didn’t move. In fact, he lay so still that I could barely tell he was there, apart from hearing his breathing. The sound was comforting somehow. He was lying as far away from me as he could get, on top of the sheets so that I was pinned underneath. I had the distinct impression that he was trying not to move in case he scared me. After a while, I rolled onto my side trying to see if he was awake or asleep, but it was too dark.
“You okay?” he whispered, making me jump.
Okay, well he’s awake, that answers that question! “I’m fine, Pretty Boy,” I promised. The mattress moved slightly, and the outline of his figure shifted as he rolled to his side too. My body started to react to him being so close to me – but not in the way I was expecting it to. My stomach got a little fluttery and I started to feel nervous. I wondered if he was going to touch me. A small part of me actually pondered what it would feel like if he did.
“Why do you call me pretty boy?” he asked quietly. I gulped as his fingers touched the back of my hand that was gripped on the edge of the sheets. For some reason though, I didn’t flinch away from him. This must have encouraged him as his hand closed over mine, loosening my fist from the sheets and weaving his fingers through mine.
I smiled weakly into the darkness. “You don’t really look like a tough guy, you’re more of a pretty boy,” I answered.
A soft chuckle came from his direction. “You don’t think I’m a tough guy?”
I chuckled too. “Well, when I first met you I would have said no, but after last night when you came in with your gun, I’d say you were definitely badass,” I admitted.
“So I’m only badass with a gun?” he replied sarcastically.
“Yeah, you’re more like a male model, slash, badass,” I joked, squeezing his hand gently to show I was just joking.
He chuckled and pulled on my hand, making my body move closer to his. I swallowed my nervousness, but there was still a large gap between us, I just wasn’t on the edge of the bed anymore. “There, that’s better, you said you like to sleep in the middle of the bed,” he said, sounding satisfied. His thumb traced along the jagged scar that lined the inside of my wrist where I’d run the razor across when I’d woken up at Carter’s house the day after my sixteenth birthday. The scar was mirrored on my other arm too. Unfortunately for me, my attempt was thwarted back then so I’d had to endure my time with Carter, and everyday without Jack after.
“Goodnight, Anna.”
“Night.”
He didn’t move again after that. I laid there, straining my eyes in the darkness to try and make him out, but to no avail. Half an hour later, the snoring started. I giggled, chewing on my lip, listening to the sound rumble through his chest. I closed my eyes, feeling something that I hadn’t felt since my sixteenth birthday. I felt safe. The sound of his snoring followed me into a peaceful sleep.