“I’ll stop,” he says, his gaze a little droopy now he’s closer to me. “It was a joke.”
I can tell he’s tipsy by how hooded his eyes are. He’s always had beautiful sleepy eyes. When he’s been drinking, they fall nearly closed. Even then, the silvery blue is still noticeable. Still breath-taking.
It’s annoying when I’m supposed to be mad at him .
I put a pillow between us. “Don’t come on my side or I’ll poke you in the eye.”
There’s a shadow of a smirk on his face.
Silence falls. The lamp on his bedside table is still on. This is bad. My heart shouldn’t be racing and threatening to blow through my chest. I shouldn’t be nervous. We’re two people sharing a bed because there’s no other option.
Except, I fear that my body will gravitate towards him in my sleep. And this new version of Kade who hates my guts will push me away and probably knock me off the bed.
He sits up, and my eyes linger on him as he types at rapid speed on his phone. Call me nosey, but I can’t help it. He’s replying to emails. At least, I think they’re emails – I don’t recognise the app he’s using. I chew on the inside of my cheek, pull my own phone out and start scrolling, bored.
Ten minutes pass. “Why are you replying to work emails so late?”
Kade doesn’t stop typing. “Because some people need to actually work, regardless of the time.”
“Where do you even work? Last I knew, you were helping Ewan and studying.”
He opens a new email and types to someone with a name starting with B, then angles his phone so I can’t see what the message says. “None of your business. A lot has changed in two years.”
So he isn’t going to tell me where he works? Weird, but okay. Noted.
“Did you see the news? Someone was killed not far from here. Decapitated. The person who did it is still out there.”
Kade doesn’t look up from his phone, and with the most monotonous, bored tone, he replies, “Shame.”
11
STACEY
Iwake to Kade standing by the window, looking out with a hand in his pocket, drinking a glass of what I assume is whisky that he must’ve picked up from the bar downstairs.
Ice cubes clink against the glass as he takes a drink – and the gulp is so audible that I can picture the way his throat shifts as he swallows.
I perch on my elbow and rub my knuckles into my eyes to rub away the tiredness. “Do you ever sleep?” I ask groggily as I yawn.
“No,” he replies sternly, taking another sip. “Go back to sleep.”
“That’s all I’ve done since we got here.” I sit up fully and stretch my arms, rocking my head from side to side to fix the cramp in my neck. “How long until we fly out?”
He walks slowly to the bedside unit and checks his phone for the time even though he’s wearing a watch. “A few hours.”
“You should lie down.”
“No.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m not.”
“Kade…”
He rolls his eyes. “Will you shut up if I do?”
I fall back on the bed. “You’re insufferable – do you know that? There’s no need for you to speak to me the way you do. What’s done is done. Stop being a dickhead.”
He laughs dryly, not even slightly amused. “What’s done is done.” Kade licks the whisky from his lips as he stares at me. “Move over.”
I begrudgingly move over to the edge of the bed.
Kade settles on top of the covers, sighing and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He looks exhausted, and his knuckles are freshly cut again.
I turn onto my side. “Were you fighting?”
He glances at his hand and puts it down at his side, staying quiet as his gaze flickers around the ceiling, as if he’s thinking. His eyelashes are so long and dark, and I impulsively want to tug at them.
The bed is small, and our elbows brush for a millisecond as he gets under the duvet. The touch is more of a graze, but it’s enough to make heat rush to my cheeks.
I lie on my back and fold the duvet around me, my arms straight against my sides .
Kade reaches over to turn the lamp off, bathing us in darkness, but the moonlight gives us a good-enough view of each other’s faces.
The aftershave he used to use when he was younger has been replaced by something more expensive, and it fills my nostrils. I fidget my fingers and try not to breathe too heavily.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing to himself – either because of our situation or the fact that Aria convinced him to come on the trip, and it’s already going sideways.
My chest rises and falls in the quiet as I try my best to remain calm. Sharing a bed with him is fine. We can be mature about this and not make it a thing.
We can pretend my hand wasn’t around his cock last night while he sucked on my nipple. We can pretend that we weren’t in love at one point. We can also pretend we aren’t sharing a hotel bed while hating each other’s guts.
We’ve shared loads of beds; albeit his dick was always inside me, but still. Does he feel it too? The gravitational tug between us? It’s bringing a thin layer of sweat to my skin, and I want to slide my hand to the right and touch his pinkie with mine.
Like we did when we were teenagers, with the blanket over us so no one would see.
“Can I ask you something?” His deep voice and tone rumble through me. “And I want you to be honest with me.”
Oh God. This could go in so many directions. “What?”
He takes a deep breath and sits up, perching on his elbow so he’s facing me. “Did you blame me for what happened? Is that why you did it?”
My heart twists in my chest. I’ve tried not to think of that heartbreak. I shake my head. “How could I blame you for something like that?”
“When you—” He stops, licks his lips then runs his thumb along them. “I’ve convinced myself it was some sort of twisted revenge.”
I wish I could tell him the truth, but I fear the damage is already done. He deserves the real story – I know that. But it would start a war, and I have no idea how that might end. Chris is diabolical, in every sense, so the thought of him and Kade clashing terrifies me.
Even if I did tell him, nothing can change. What’s lost is lost, and I’m stuck trying to find my strength and voice.
How do I tell someone what happened that night without them looking at me like I’m filth? I can only shake my head and hope he drops it. “No. It wasn’t like that.”
He stares at me for a long second, studying my face, the way I’m holding back the audible gulp and the tears threatening to fall. “Forget I asked.”
We had everything, and now we have nothing but lies and grudges. I can’t be mad at him – not really. But he walked away so easily, and I couldn’t fight for him.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and, without waiting for him to say anything else, I turn my back to him and hike my knees up to get comfortable.
The ghost of a touch on my spine sends shocks in every direction. My momentary lapse in judgement means my top has ridden up, and every bruise and scar Chris has left on my back is now in full view.
“The fuck?” His voice is a growl – deadly. “What happened to you? ”