Good Girl Gone
Page 3

She burrows into my pillow. “I’m afraid to sleep alone,” she murmurs. “Monsters and shit.” Her blue eyes meet mine and they’re so full of something I don’t even understand that I stop breathing. She holds out a tentative hand to me, and it’s almost shaking. I give it a quick squeeze, scoot her over a little, and lift myself out of the chair onto the bed, using a special board that’s made just for me. I adjust my legs and lie on my back, so close to the edge of the bed that I’m afraid I might fall off.
She immediately curls into me and puts her head on my shoulder. She wraps her arm around my chest and tucks it under me on the other side. It’s like a hug of epic proportions and my insides start to melt a little. Honestly, I feel like something has cracked inside me and I want to pull her into my heart and let her fill up all the empty space.
I stroke a hand down the length of her hair and she murmurs at me, her lips moving against the skin of my chest.
“What did you say?” My voice is trembling. But so is my body, so that’s not a surprise.
“Will you hold me?” she asks. “Do you mind?”
I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. “Shh,” I whisper.
But I remind myself that this is temporary. When she wakes up, she’ll remember where she is and who she’s with, and she probably won’t like it.
I pull the covers over her and stroke her back while her breaths go soft and even. But I don’t sleep. Because I don’t want to miss any of this moment. If I sleep, I’ll wake up and it’ll be over, and that’s the last thing I want. I have been alone for a really long time. And in this moment, I’m not.
Star
I wake up to the sound of someone snoring right beside my ear. I lift my head and wince when pain shoots from one side of my skull to the other.
“Oh, God,” I moan.
The man under me jumps, blinking his eyes open.
“Who are you?” I ask, sitting up and scurrying backward as fast as my addled brain will allow.
He lifts his arm and stares down at his watch. “I’ve been your pillow for a few hours.”
“Josh?”
The night comes crashing back to me.
My long lost brother had paid me a visit. The one I haven’t seen since he was adopted by a family that didn’t want me and Wren. The one who is a law-abiding, upstanding citizen who’s studying religion. You know, because he has religious parents and a religious upbringing.
I got stinking drunk.
I danced on a piano.
My sister is having a baby.
That’s where my memory stops.
“Did we have sex?”
He lifts his head and looks down at me. “Are you sore?”
I wiggle my ass from side to side. “No.”
“Then we didn’t have sex.”
I roll my eyes. “Awfully sure of yourself.”
“Yep.” He lifts his legs off the bed and slides into his chair.
“How did I get here?”
“You don’t remember snuggling into my chest and begging me to hold you?”
I snort. Then I immediately wish I hadn’t when he grins at me. “I did not beg you to hold me.”
“I have witnesses.”
Memories suddenly assault me. My sister is having a baby! “Peck…?”
“She’s at the hospital. You want to go?”
“Well, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. I slide to the edge of the bed and look down at my feet. “Did you take my shoes off?”
“I didn’t want to get stabbed by them. Nice toes, by the way.”
His cell phone beeps. He reads a text message and then looks up at me. “They say it’s going to be hours yet before the baby comes. No need to hurry.” He narrows his eyes. “How drunk are you?”
“Not at all.”
“Liar.”
I follow him as he rolls into his small kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. “Sit,” he says. He points to his kitchen table.
“No, thank you.” I perch on the arm of his couch as I slide my shoes on and bend over to buckle the tiny straps at my ankles.
“How’s the ankle?” he asks softly.
“Hurts,” I admit. “What did I do?”
“You don’t remember that part?”
I scrub the heels of my hands into my eyes and wince. “No.”
“You jumped up and down and fell over on those stilts you call shoes. I carried you all the way here.”
I eye his chair. “Carried me?”
He pats his legs. “In my lap. You were admiring my package.” He grins.
“I hope you’re talking about a gift.”
“Could be, if you play your cards right.” He chuckles.
I groan and toss my hair back. I pull out a chair at the table and sink down into it. “Go ahead. Tell me everything I said or did so I can apologize for it.”
He snorts. “Apologize, hell. Best thing that’s happened to me in years.”
I’m confused. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” He looks chagrined.
“So…I was admiring your package?”
He nods. The coffee is done so he pours me a cup. He narrows his eyes at me. “Sweet and creamy?”
“Yes, please.” He adds sugar and cream and slides a cup across the table at me.
“You were totally admiring my package. I think you should take a look at it close up.” He grins and it’s all teeth. I study him. Hard. He’s handsome. I don’t know why I never thought so before. I guess it’s because he’s never smiled at me before. Or maybe it’s because of all the ink.