Finding Him (Covet 2)

But the other part, the part that hoped and dreamed, the part that was hungry for a real connection—told me that she was different, this would be different. It told me to hold on to this moment because it was a rare one.

Unfortunately, she didn’t feel the same way.

I made my way back to my bedroom and flipped off the lights, then lay down and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling.

Chapter Nineteen

KEATON

I regretted my words instantly.

The fact was, Julian made me feel a lot of things: guilt, attraction, fascination. And it wasn’t fair to him that as much as I wanted to reach out and touch him, I also wanted to pull away and crawl into myself.

It wasn’t fair.

But it was happening.

The fact that he seemed to have delayed calling for help only momentarily upset me. My hands were feeling better, obviously, and in his own way, it was sweet that he wanted to keep us isolated a bit longer.

I leaned against the counter as the oven dinged. The smell of fresh cookies filled the air. Guilt slammed into my chest as I grabbed a plate and started shoveling the mountain of cookies onto it in order to bring Julian a peace offering.

His eyes.

I shivered.

He’d closed me off in seconds.

I wondered if that was how he dealt with pain. He just decided it hurt too much and refused to feel it, moved right along and shoved it in the back of his mind. It seemed he was talented at deflecting, ignoring, pretending.

I didn’t like it.

I liked it when he was open.

When he laughed, when he shared.

Did he do that with his ex?

Why was I even thinking about her?

Because she’d obviously been amazing enough to be his.

And I was stupidly curious and admittedly jealous.

With a sigh, I grabbed the plate and stared at the computer. It would all be over in a few hours, wouldn’t it? Him helping me with my story. Me talking about Noah.

It felt like my throat was closing up.

How was I going to do this without Julian?

And how had he helped so much in the last forty-eight hours? He let me talk about the sad, the happy, the real and was quiet the entire time except for the tapping of his fingers against the keys.

I gripped the heavy plate and made my way down the hall to his bedroom. I didn’t knock, I didn’t want to wake him up. I just wanted him to smell the cookies and enjoy them once he was done sleeping.

I twisted the handle to the door and let myself in, leaving it open a crack for my quick escape.

He was sprawled across the large king bed, shirtless.

I quickly looked away and set the cookies on the nightstand and stole one more look at him before backing away.

“Is that a peace offering?” His groggy voice startled me.

I shivered, and crossed my arms. “Yeah, well, you gave the puzzle piece back, so it’s only fair, right?”

“Right,” he agreed.

The silence was tense.

I wasn’t sure if I should ask if he was okay, apologize, or just leave.

“If I ask you something, will you promise not to read into it?” he finally said.

I took a step toward him. “Sure.”

“Stay.”

“Is that the question?” I felt all the air leave my lungs.

“More or less,” he said. “Just stay. Please?”

“Afraid of the dark?” I teased as I slowly climbed into the bed and lay down next to him.

I didn’t pull away when his hand softly clasped my right bandaged one and lightly squeezed. “The night is dark and full of terrors.”

“Game of Thrones.”

“I knew I liked you.”

I squeezed his hand back as best I could. “Why am I lying in your bed, Julian?”

“Because I did the math. Born with a spreadsheet in my hands, remember? They’ll be here in about three hours, and I’m a horrible enough human being to do anything in my power to keep you with me for just a little bit longer.”

“Why?” What I meant to say was Why me, but I couldn’t get the words out.

“Because . . .” He sighed and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “When I touch you, I don’t feel so alone.”

“Me either.”

“Sleep.”

Sleep? He was insane. His body was searing hot, he had no shirt on, and he was calmly holding me in bed like it was a natural occurrence for me, for us.

My body was hypersensitive to his every breath, even the slowing of it telling me he was sleeping.

I forced myself to relax and ducked my head against his chest. The last thing I remembered was the smell of cologne and chocolate chip cookies.

It was the first time in months I fell asleep with a smile on my face and less heaviness in my heart.

Chapter Twenty

JULIAN

It wasn’t the smell of cookies that woke me up out of a dead sleep. It was a mouth breathing below my right ear, lips pressed against my skin like they belonged there.