“You want me to sleep with you?”
Her cheeks turned a hint of pink that made me want to keep saying things to get that expression. She was usually so embarrassed when I flirted with her, but she never took me seriously. But now, we were about to sleep in the same bed. There was no way to not take this seriously.
“Sleep…next to me,” she chirped.
“All right.”
I closed the door behind me, flicking the lights off, and carefully slid into the bed next to her. The only illumination in the room came from her side table. The bed was not big. My feet hung a little over the edge, but it was infinitely better than sleeping on the floor. The worst part was how close together we were. Or maybe it was the best part? The most torturous part?
Her body wasn’t touching mine, but she was close enough that I could feel the heat coming off of her.
My brain short-circuited when she shifted and her hip touched mine. She jumped backward, as if she, too, had been hit by an electrical surge at the contact.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” she said hastily, turning off the side lamp and casting us into darkness.
“Night,” I whispered.
She turned on her side to face away from me. While I sat there and envisioned her naked and underneath me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and told my dick to get itself together.
Fuck. I was already hard.
“I actually think I’m going to take a shower,” I told her.
“Okay,” she murmured softly.
There was something I needed to take care of if I was going to sleep next to her all night.
11
Jennifer
Graduation was bright and early the next morning.
I’d barely slept. My brain wouldn’t shut off, no matter how hard I’d tried. Not when I could hear the shower running from the bathroom and picture the water running over his naked body. Not when he lay inches away from me. Not when we were in bed together.
I’d eventually gotten up at three in the morning to pop a sleeping pill that I reserved for emergencies. But I’d taken it too late and woken up groggy. My brain was cocooned in a cloud, and every movement felt like I was dragging.
“We could get you a coffee,” Julian offered with a smile.
He hadn’t seemed to have any trouble sleeping and was his same chipper self the next morning.
I made a face. “I don’t like it.”
“But you need it. There’s a difference.”
“It tastes like bitter bean juice.”
He gasped. “You offend me.”
“Feel free to enjoy it. I will stick to my water.”
“Tea? Coke? Chocolate? Something with a stimulant in it.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Maybe a Coke. But there’s a hierarchy of Coke.”
He arched an eyebrow. “A hierarchy?”
“Definitely. Not all Coke is created equal.”
He snorted. “Pray tell.” He leaned his elbow on the island as he waited for his pot of coffee to brew.
“Mexican Coke in a glass bottle is the absolute number one.”
“Fair.”
“Then Freestyle machine Coke. You know, the one that has the touch screens.”
He smirked. “Yes.”
“Fountain Coke. Preferably McDonald’s, followed by Coke in a can. Then comes the problem children.”
He couldn’t keep the full-blown smile from reaching all the way to his eyes. “Problem children?”
“Two liter, then twenty-ounce bottle, and then the dreaded bar Coke.” I shuddered. “Bar Coke is the lowest of lows. Only to be had when all else fails.”
“You are adorable.” He reached forward and booped my nose.
I flushed and looked away with a laugh. “Ask any Coke drinker. They’ll tell you! I didn’t invent the hierarchy. I just enforce it.”
My mom appeared then, decked out in her nicest dress for graduation. I’d carefully avoided being alone with her since we’d gotten here. I’d even waited much longer than normal before leaving the bedroom so that I wouldn’t have to endure her lecture. I wanted to have a good weekend. Julian was definitely making it better, but I couldn’t escape her forever.
“Ready to go, kiddos?” she asked with my dad trailing behind her.
“We are,” I said.
“Just waiting for my coffee.”
“Pour me a cup, too, would you, Julian?” my dad said. He sidled up to Julian and started a conversation about his car.
“Don’t think that I don’t know you’re avoiding me, young lady,” my mom said quietly.
“I’ve been with you the entire time I’ve been here.”
“We’re going to need to talk.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered. I’d known it was coming. I didn’t have to look forward to it.
Once the coffee was done and in travel mugs, we headed out of the house. The BNB was walking distance to campus, which was lucky so we didn’t have to hope to find parking. We stopped in front of Bass Concert Hall, where we found Chester and Margaret waiting.
They appeared to be in a heated debate that quickly trailed off when they saw us. She couldn’t even manage a smile for us. In fact, she looked close to tears. I wanted to hug her for putting up with my brother. What was his problem?