“Let’s go back to the house.” She turned away and hit the lights before we walked up the path.
Not once did she want me to hold her. Not once did she even let me touch her. She was closed off from me, keeping me at a distance because she didn’t feel welcome to do anything else. She’d wanted to come to my room but assumed that was off-limits.
I didn’t want to sleep with her, but this time, I wanted to make an exception.
I’d already made exceptions for her before anyway.
We walked back to the house, and I set the alarm once more.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I won’t do it again.” She walked to the stairs.
“Muse.”
She stopped halfway up but didn’t turn around.
I walked until I reached her at the same level. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, and she seemed so much smaller than usual. I didn’t like this weak version of Muse. I didn’t like seeing her afraid, not when she had nothing to be afraid of. “Sleep with me.”
Her eyes couldn’t hide their surprise. “It’s okay, Conway. But thank you.” She kept walking and reached the second floor.
I walked with her. “I mean it.”
“Really, it’s fine.” She reached the third floor then walked to her bedroom.
I preferred the moments when she wanted me, when she would dig her nails into my chest possessively. I preferred her kisses and her warmth to her coldness. She’d become closer to me as the months passed, and every time she got too comfortable, I hit the brakes and pushed her away. I reminded her that she was just a woman I owned, not a person I actually cared about.
But I reaped what I sowed.
And now she wasn’t turning to me when she needed me.
I wanted her to need me. “Muse?”
This time, she didn’t stop. “Good night, Conway.” She walked inside her bedroom and shut the door behind her.
I stayed outside her door, knowing she’d given me a way out. I could just go to bed and forget this whole thing. I could enjoy my large bed alone and know she would get over this on her own. In the morning, we could both forget tonight ever happened.
It would be so easy.
But that was not what I wanted. I opened the door and walked inside.
Muse had already taken her boots and jeans off. Her back was to me as she pulled her plaid shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground. I hadn’t visited her room often, but I noticed she was meticulously clean. There was never shoes or clothes on the ground. Her bathroom counters were always free of her makeup bag and her toothbrush. She cleaned up after herself like she was a guest in my home.
But she wasn’t a guest. This was her home.
She grabbed a nightshirt from her drawer and pulled it over her head, keeping her back to me.
I knew she heard me, but she continued to ignore me.
I pulled my clothes off then got underneath her covers. It was a king bed like my own, with the same mattress and sheets. The only difference was the color of the bedding. Her room was decorated in pink and gold, and mine remained in masculine tones of gray, black, and brown.
When she turned around and looked at me, her surprise replaced her sadness. She stood in the long white t-shirt with her hair pulled over one shoulder. The puffiness of her eyes had gone down because the cool temperature decreased the swelling. But the devastation was still etched into her face, like carvings out of stone.
I pulled back the covers on her side. “Get in.”
It seemed like she might try to argue with me, might try to convince me that she didn’t need me. But there was no argument, and she got into bed beside me. She stuck to her side, lying on her back and looking at the ceiling. Then she turned off the lamp.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and dragged her across the bed toward me.
She didn’t fight me, but her breathing picked up.
I positioned her against my chest, pulling her arm across my stomach and yanking her leg across my waist. I combined us together until we were a single person, her cold body slowly becoming warm because of mine. I rested my lips against her forehead and ran my hand up her toned thigh.
After a minute, her body finally relaxed. Her hand gripped my side, and she released a quiet sigh. She adjusted her body a little before she was in the optimal position. Then she remained still, cuddled into my side.
I kissed her forehead and ran my fingers through her hair. She was the softest woman I’d ever touched, with hair like silk and skin like rose petals. She had the prettiest blue eyes, the kind I could get lost in when I fucked her. For someone so pretty, she was very fierce. She’d been through a lot and never allowed it to get to her. But this dream broke her, made her run into the night for comfort.