Page 83 of The Relationship Clause

I stare at the ceiling, starting to back out of the room. “Okay, well, I’m going to let you sleep this off and—OH MY GOSH! KEEP YOUR UNDERWEAR ON!”

I dart forward, catching his hands before they slip any further down his thighs, and I pull his boxer briefs back up with a snap. At least the bedroom light is off; that’s all I can be grateful for.

“Pants!” I yell. “Pants. You need pants. Do you want me to get you some—”

He turns around and flops onto my bed…and almost immediately starts snoring.

“Guess not.”

I certainly didn’t see this coming.

Worry twists in my gut. Something about this whole situation doesn’t feel right. I mean BESIDES the fact that I’ve got an almost-naked Owen lying in my bed right now. How did he get like this when he was only drinking ginger ale?

“I suppose this means I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” I murmur.

I grab the bedspread and pull it over Owen. Partly because I don’t want him to be cold, but also partly because the man needs to be covered up or I may stand here all night admiring his body.

As I slide the comforter up to his shoulders, my hand grazes his arm. He stirs.

“Junie? Is that you?”

“Yes, Owen, it’s me.” I go to pull away, but he reaches out and catches my hand in his.

His bloodshot eyes peek up at me. “Sleep with me,” he whispers.

My eyes go wide. A thousand butterflies squirm in my belly and my cheeks burn. “Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No, not like that.” He squeezes his eyes shut again and shakes his head. His voice is colored with pain. “I mean just sleep with me. I won’ touch you. Drinking makes the nightmares come back. I don’t want the nightmares, Junie. Please stay.”

Nightmares?

An overwhelming surge of compassion pours through me, but I can’t make myself do it. It feels like stepping over a big, fat line I won’t be able to cross back over. Would Owen want this if he were sober enough to think straight right now?

Then again, if he were sober, he probably wouldn’t be worried about nightmares.

I bite my lip. Maybe he’ll fall back asleep and I can sneak away. But then Owen pulls me onto the bed with him, and I let him. He makes room for me, coaxing me onto the mattress, pulling my back against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. His warmth is like sitting by a fire in a cabin on a cold, snowy evening, and I can’t help snuggling closer to him. If I stay still, I can feel his heartbeat through my thin pajama shirt.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs into my ear. “Do you want me to let go? I can give you more space if you want.”

“No.” Even to my own ears, my voice is breathy. “Don’t let go. It’s more than okay.”

We’re quiet for a long moment, and I think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again.

“Junie?”

“Hm?”

“I think…I think I was drugged.”

Yeah, I kind of think so too.

CHAPTER 26

OWEN

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache and so much brain fog, I can’t even remember where I am. I blink at the light filtering through the unfamiliar blinds. Where am I?

I don’t have long to contemplate this though, as the next thought I’m conscious of is that there is a beautiful, red-headed woman lying in my arms, snoring softly. I blink down at her, tracing the contours of her cheeks, her eyelashes, her pink lips… Wait a minute. This is Junie.

---