Untouchable (Untouchables, 1)

“I didn’t think of funny voices. My bad. If I ever babysit you again, I’ll make a note.”

“You should ask him for some tips,” she advises.

Biting back a smile, I assure her, “I’ll do that.” Pushing off the bed, I cross the room and return her storybook to the bookshelf, then walk back over to tuck her in. “I don’t know the correct protocol. Should I give you a forehead kiss?”

Chloe pulls the covers up to her chest and nods. “Sure.”

“Okay.” I smile and lean down, kissing her little forehead. “Have sweet dreams. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs in the living room until someone gets home.”

“G’night, bookstore lady.”

“Good night, Chloe.” I pause to turn out her light, steal one last glance at her and her nightstand to make sure she has her water bottle, then I pull the door shut behind me.

I intend to go directly downstairs so I can start studying, but I can’t help a faint stirring of curiosity when I go to walk past Carter’s bedroom. His door is closed, but my hand finds its way to the knob and it twists easily. I don’t know why I imagined he might have his bedroom door locked, but I’m surprised when it easily unlatches and drifts open. It shouldn’t be so easy to penetrate his sanctuary, when in so many ways, he is so well-guarded.

I shouldn’t be in here when he isn’t home, when he hasn’t invited me, but as I look at his bed, I can’t help thinking about when I slept here with him and missing it. Since he isn’t here to witness it, I climb onto his unmade bed and crawl under the covers, pulling them up around me. His bed smells like him. I close my eyes and breathe it in, memories stirring of his arms around me. His lips on my skin.

God, I hope he hasn’t brought anyone else in this bed since me. My heart aches at the thought, even though I know he can now and he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. Since he went to Erika’s when we were on the brink of a relationship, it’s probably unreasonable to imagine he hasn’t slept with anyone now that he’s completely single again.

I relax in Carter’s bed for a few more minutes, thinking about him, then I drag myself out of the bed and wander around. I don’t want to invade his privacy by outright snooping, going through drawers or anything, but I glance at the surfaces to see what he’s left out, unguarded. His history book is sitting out on top of his desk. There’s a little desk lamp and some scattered folders and notebooks. His school things.

I see a paper sideways and hanging out of his history book and I can’t resist opening it up to see what it is. Probably just notes, nothing exciting.

But when I open it, it’s not notes. It’s one of his sketches. And it’s a sketch of me. In the picture, I’m sitting at my desk with my elbow propped on the surface, my face propped on my palm, gazing out the window. He’s clearly got some skill, because this is just lead spread across a sheet of paper, but looking at it, I can feel the girl’s longing to be somewhere else. Maybe it’s because I know it’s me, but I don’t think so. I think he really captured me and committed me to paper. This is amazing.

I wish I could tell him it’s amazing, but then he’d think I went snooping around his room. Since I can’t keep the sketch, I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and snap a picture of it. After sliding my phone back into my pocket, I tuck the sketch between the pages and close the heavy history book.

No point looking around at more stuff I can’t ask about. I’d rather explore his room with him on the bed watching me, not alone, feeling like I’m being sneaky.

I go downstairs instead. His mom told me earlier Chloe would go to bed long before they got home, so I take advantage of the quiet to get out my own school stuff and do a little studying. Actually, a lot of studying. I study and study and study until the words stop making sense and I can’t stop yawning. I didn’t sleep well last night and I woke up before my alarm today, so I’m exhausted.

Deciding to take a short study break, I mark my page and leave my study materials on the coffee table, then I lie down on the couch, pulling one of the decorative pillows under my head.

I just need five minutes to rest my eyes, then I’ll get back to studying.

Chapter 45

My five minutes must run a little long, because the next thing I know I’m roused from sleep by a hand cradling my face. My heavy eyelids drift open and I see Carter sitting on the edge of the couch with me.