The Roommate Pact(67)

22

Graham watched as she tried to decide whether to say what was on her mind. She always pressed the right corner of her lips together when she did that, as if trying to hold in the words until she came to a decision.

They usually came out regardless. With Claire, few things were ever held back.

He’d meant what he said—he felt different around her. Something he couldn’t put his finger on...more confident, almost, but not in the usual way. He didn’t need people to confirm he was attractive, funny, or entertaining. Hadn’t needed that kind of confirmation in a while.

But belief in himself as a human? Like, a whole-ass man valued for who he was as a person—no matter what mood, no matter who else was around, no matter what he was going through?

That’s what had changed.

Even so, the longer he waited for her to speak, rubbing his thumb up and down the soft skin below her hairline, old doubts creeped in. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, after all.

Her voice finally came, soothing him from the outside in.

“You’re so worthy, Graham.” She said the words slow, with intention. “I hope you never lose sight of that again because you’re an incredible man. You’re kind and sweet and funny. You’re strong and thoughtful, and so inherently good. I actually don’t think I’ve ever met a better man.”

His fingers stilled as his throat tightened. “I wish I could explain how it feels when you say things like that to me.”

He hoped she knew, and that somehow he made her feel the same. Last night in the darkness of his old room, the look in her eyes when he’d whispered into her ear gave him hope.

“That’s the thing about feelings. They don’t always need to be expressed. Some are just meant to be felt.”

He’d avoided both for so long, it was nice to know it was okay to just sit with them sometimes. Feel, observe, soak it in. Maybe share it, maybe not.

He slid his hand from her neck and grabbed one of her hands, entwining his fingers with hers. “I definitely do.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t quite as bright as he’d like—could he put in a request for full reciprocation of the ridiculous infatuation thrumming through his veins? Maybe even a love declaration punctuated with a poem outlining highlights of his sexual prowess?

Fine, that was too much to ask, probably. It had been a long weekend, plus she had to stay alert and focused on the drive since he was zero help in that arena.

But speaking of sexual prowess...

“Also, I’m all for whatever slutty outfit you had in mind for the next time we see Angela. You can put it on tonight if it would make you feel better.” He eyed her gravely. “For your sake, of course. I’m thinking of your mental health here, Claire.”

She snorted. “I’m sure you are.”

“Wouldn’t it be fun to get dressed up sometime?”

“Got a problem with scrubs and yoga pants?”

Hell no. The woman was so pretty in blue it hurt. “Why does it always have to be about you? Maybe I’m trying to show off my ass in a pair of tailored slacks.”

“Now we’re talking.” She cocked a brow. “Tux?”

He laughed. “You think I own a tux?”

“I don’t know but I have a thing for bow ties.”

“The mystery of your date with Merlin is finally explained.”

She laughed and he felt it down to his toes. “What does that mean?”

“He’s a bow tie guy for sure.”

“See, you’re trying to take a cheap shot at poor Marvin but all you’re doing is making me want to see him in a bow tie.”

“Fine, I’ll wear the fucking bow tie.”

“Good.” She winked. “You’re so easy.”

He made sure her eyes were on him before he rolled his eyes. Also, he just liked the way she looked at him.

After a beat of silence, she asked, “So...how about you wear just a bow tie?”

“Thirsty?”

She did a little shrug as if to say of course and it made him smile.

“I can offer you a bow tie plus a cast. Final offer.”

Claire didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.”

A low, distressed cry startled Graham awake.

His eyes snapped open, blinking in the darkness as he oriented himself.

He was at the condo, in his bed, with Claire beside him.

Her body was tense and her head moved from side to side across the pillow.

“No no no...” she repeated, sounding closer to tears with each word.

Graham reached over and put his hand on her cheek, half twisting his torso and going up on his elbow while keeping his legs flat, wishing he could roll over and wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. “Claire, shh. It’s okay.”

As he brought his palm down to her shoulder, gently stroking her hair, her lids fluttered open. Her gaze caught his and held. “Graham?”

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Her voice trembled.

He frowned. Was he okay? “I’m fine. Are you? I think you were having a bad dream.”

She stared at him for a moment and took a deep breath. The movement dropped his attention to the skin just below her collarbone, then he brought his eyes back to hers. She swallowed as she blinked up at him, looking as if she wanted to say something.