Chapter 9
Seth
“It’s beyond beautiful,” Seraphina says, glancing around the bedroom she’ll be sleeping in. I want to tell her it’s more beautiful with her here and the way she lights up the space, but I bite back the words, even though they’re the absolute truth.
“Thanks. I’m pretty sure my grandmother wouldn’t approve of the nude painting over my bed.” I walk toward the en suite bathroom and open the door. “You’ll find everything you need. I keep it ready for guests.”
“A walk-in shower,” she moans, throwing her head back and exposing her neck to me. How I want to kiss and taste every square inch of it. “I hope you have a large water heater. I may be in here for hours.”
“Take your time.” I laugh. “My hot water is your hot water.”
Reaching up on her tiptoes, she kisses me softly on the cheek. It’s chaste, maybe one she’d share with a friend or even a relative, but the innocent touch makes me want to do not so innocent things with her.
After making sure she’s settled, I leave the room before I do or say something I’ll regret. I know she sees me as her friend, or maybe, with our age difference, I’m more like a big brother. The thought is sobering.
Fuck. Who am I kidding? After she let me kiss her today in the park, I’ll never be able to get enough of her. But will she give me more? Is she even ready for a relationship after the hell she’s been through? I’ve watched her from afar for three years, what’s a little more time?
That night on the beach, I fell for this beautiful girl as we watched fireworks light up the night sky. I stayed out by the water’s edge for over an hour in hopes the hot blonde with great tits would return. It wasn’t until the next morning I found out her true identity. I thought her name was Sara. Instead, she was Andrew Bishop’s daughter, Seraphina.
In the dark, I could’ve sworn she was closer to twenty-five. My near empty flask of scotch must’ve fucked with my eyesight.
I wander downstairs with the hope of making her dinner. I thought about ordering in, but want to do something special for her. Hell, a ten-year-old can call for takeout in New York City. She’s worth humiliating myself in the kitchen.
Digging through my pantry, I find a bag of spaghetti and a jar of sauce. I don’t remember buying it, so I check the expiration date. There’s still at least a year on each item, so I grab a pot and get busy. It’s a two-ingredient dinner with all the instructions, I figure I can pull it off.
My attempt at dinner has been ready for almost an hour, and still, there’s no sign of Seraphina. I climb the stairs to the third floor and listen by her door. When I don’t hear anything, I pace in the hallway like an insecure schoolboy, wondering what I should do. I knock softly on the door and wait, but there’s no response.
After knocking harder, and still not hearing a sound, I turn the knob and peek inside. There’s a small lump in the middle of the bed. She’s fallen asleep, which doesn’t really surprise me after the day she’s endured.
I take the stairs down to my office and write a note to leave on her nightstand.
Sleepy Sera,
If you wake up and are hungry, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. My attempt at spaghetti is on the top shelf in the refrigerator. I’ll leave my bedroom door cracked if you need me for anything.
Sweet dreams, beautiful.
−Seth
After setting the note down, I stare at her still form. Her head is turned away from me, but her hair flows over the pillow like spun gold. She’s breathtaking in the nightglow. I watch the steady rise and fall of the thick comforter before leaving without disturbing her.
Camped out in my study, I’ve been rereading the same page in a book for so long, the words are nothing but a blur. I give up trying to focus and set the novel on a side table by my chair, deciding it’s time for bed. Though, sleep will be impossible with all the thoughts spinning in my head. Where do we go from here? Now that she’s in my home with me, I don’t want her to leave. Do I tell her I’ve fallen in love with her? Or should I just ignore those feelings and help her get on with her own life?
I’ll do anything she asks of me, even if it tears my heart into pieces. Life pushed her into unthinkable choices, and now the direction needs to be her own.
I change out of my dress shirt and pants, and pull on a pair of sweat pants. Fumbling through a stacked pile of T-shirts, I find my favorite Yankees one.
In case Seraphina needs to make her way downstairs, I leave the lights on in the hallway, crack my door open about a foot, turn off my bedroom lights, and climb in bed.
Hours later, my eyes are wide open as I watch shadows dance across the ceiling. The outside noise of the city has died down, making the house quiet, and I find myself straining to hear any sounds from the floor above me.
The light tapping of feet coming down the stairs grabs my attention. It’s her. I sit up in bed as my bedroom door creaks open. The light from the hallway bleeds through the darkness until I see Seraphina standing in the shadows. I blink a couple times, wondering if it’s an illusion.
“Seth?” she calls out.
“You finally woke up.”
“I was dead to the world.” She moves closer to me, stopping at the side of my bed. “I haven’t slept like that in months.”
My breathing stops as I take in the sight of her. She’s wearing a thin camisole and tiny shorts. My hands shake as I battle the desire to reach out and touch her. Miraculously, I don’t give into the urge. She runs her fingers over the edge of the comforter, and I imagine they’re touching my skin.
“Will you hold me?” she asks, and it feels like she’s begging me.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” I rasp, unable to hide my desire.
My answer is a half-truth. There are other things I’d like to do to her. My cock hardens under the thin fabric of my sweat pants.
I swing my legs around to get out of the bed, but she pushes against my arm with one hand and stops me. The warmth of her touch sears into my skin.
“Can you hold me in bed?” she whispers.
“Sure.” My voice is shaky at best. Fuck. Having her in my arms will be an equal dose of heaven and hell.
I pull the covers aside to make room for her next to me. She crawls underneath and lies back on the pillow. I place my head next to hers and wrap my arm around her over the comforter. She doesn’t press into me, which is a good thing, because my hard-on would be the first thing she’d feel.