Seth (Damage Control 3)
Page 12
“Bad dream?” she whispers.
“Can’t remember.”
She’s so close. In the half-dark, with the outlines of furniture looming here and there, her face is like a goddamn star, drawing my gaze. She has a pale streak in her hair, and I wonder why.
“Want to talk?”
“About what?”
“Don’t know. Anything, to help you relax.”
“Does it work for you?”
She snorts, a soft exhale of breath. “If I had someone to talk to in the night, it might.”
All right. “So that boyfriend of yours… He doesn’t stay the night?”
“Why the obsession with my boyfriend?”
“I’m not obsessed.” Lie. Big fat lie. “Just curious. I mean, this is really helping me relax.”
She giggles. “You’re funny.”
“Thank you.”
She’s silent. I can hear her breathing, and this is relaxing. So much so, my lids are growing heavy again.
“Frederic is not exactly my boyfriend,” she says, and okay, this wakes me up.
Like, whoa.
“He’s not?”
“Not officially,” she clarifies.
Oh. Shit. Awesome. What the hell does that even mean?
“He’s studying music in the arts department. He’s two years older than me, and he’s just so…handsome. And self-assured. And all the girls want him. I’ve had a crush on him since I started there a year ago.”
Goddammit. Not sure I can hear more.
“I mean, he asked me out. But that was only a month ago. We almost kissed at a party two weeks ago—almost—and he walked me to my car many times. We stayed up talking loads of times. We really fit, you know? We both like music and dance and the arts, and he’s so sensitive and kind. I was going to meet him tonight, but he couldn’t make it.”
Okay, now I’m sure I can’t take this anymore.
“You know, those painkillers would be fucking great. If you don’t mind.”
She jerks guiltily, and I swear under my breath, feeling like all kinds of an asshole. “Of course. I’ll go get them.”
I swallow two with the water she brings me and lift myself up on the sofa. “Thank you. I think I’ll be fine now.”
She nods and takes a step back. “Goodnight, then.”
“Night.” Something in her expression doesn’t let me rest, though. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. No.” Her voice has a break to it. A crack.
Damn.