Page 28 of The Road to Finding Us

Oops.

I throw the pillow off my head and then shoot up out of the bed the next instant. Unfortunately, the sheets have wrapped around me and I end up face planting onto the hardwood floor of the treehouse. Rubbing my elbow, I glance at the clock on the nightstand to check for the time. I guess I’ve been asleep for an hour.

“Hi. Uh…well…surprise?” I say hesitantly. I try to gauge his reaction by his facial expression, but the man has mastered his poker face.

“Last I checked this place has two beds, and you’re in mine.”

“Okay, well, here’s the deal…my room has dolls.” I stuff my hands in the large pocket in the front of my sweatshirt.

“Dolls?” Aspen asks, his eyes widening.

“Yes, Aspen—dolls! A whole freaking shelf of dolls that look like they’re plotting my murder. I can’t sleep in there.” My body shudders at the memory. I laid my head down to sleep after Aspen had excused himself for a work phone call, the cell service too spotty in the treehouse for him to hear the other line clearly. I was seconds away from getting up and changing into my pajamas when I noticed the shelf of doom.

I don’t know how I missed it when I first put my things in the room, but I did. After looking at the overflowing shelves full of dolls with beady eyes and creepy smiles, I hightailed it out of my room so fast I didn’t even think to grab any of my belongings.

I was half-expecting to look back and find one of the dolls chasing me with a knife.

“You’re half-naked and sleeping in my bed because of dolls?” he asks, exasperation dripping from his voice.

I take the moment to get a good look at him. He looks exhausted. His hair sticks up in different directions, as if he’s been running his hand through it. There are bags under his eyes. My curiosity is piqued. I want to ask him what’s going on, but I keep my questions inside. “Half-naked?” My eyes drop to my body.

“The sweatshirt. My sweatshirt,” he deadpans, a noticeable husk to his voice. His eyes slip to where the sweatshirt engulfs my body, before I’m met with his green gaze.

“Sooo….” I start, racking my brain on how I can logically explain to him why I’m wearing his sweatshirt. “I was in my room, changing out of the clothes I wore to dinner and into my pajamas, when I looked across the room. Then BAM—creepy dolls staring right back at me. I panicked, Aspen. I ran out of that room as fast as my legs would take me and I darted right into your room. I didn’t want to get in your bed with dirty clothes on so I just uh, well, I just went into your bag and borrowed something of yours. It’s—” I catch myself before I continue to ramble, snapping my mouth shut.

I begin to pull one of my arms through the armhole before he steps closer to stop me.

“Are you even wearing pants?” Aspen challenges, his gaze flicking down. I follow his line of sight to look down at my legs, seeing where his question has stemmed from. It does sort of look like I’m not wearing anything underneath.

I pull up the sweatshirt to show him I have something on and I hear his breath catch.

I’d rolled his boxers a few times so they didn’t completely fall down my hips. I don’t know if he’s staring at the tiny bit of skin I have exposed or staring because I’m wearing his underwear. I quickly let the sweatshirt drop, looking back at him to see his eyes aimed on the ceiling.

He takes a big breath. “Keep the sweatshirt.” I watch curiously as he walks to the bed and fixes the pillows I had messed up in my sleep. After fixing them, he tugs the blankets back and pulls off his shirt, only remaining in his joggers before crawling into bed.

“All right, then. Well, I guess I’ll go sleep with the murderous dolls.” I force a smile and begin to tiptoe backward out of the room, my heart racing at the thought of those dolls staring at me all night.

I expect to wake up surrounded by little doll gremlins sacrificing me like a lamb. Or something of the sort. Whatever’s happening in scary movies these days.

“Don’t be like that, Lily. You already said you can’t sleep in that room. This bed is big enough for both of us. Just stay on your side.” He rolls over and faces the opposite wall, paying me no extra attention.

Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

My heart slams against my chest, but I don’t think it’s because of the dolls this time. It’s because Aspen just offered for me to sleep in the same bed as him, so nonchalantly. As if it isn’t a big deal. It was barely something we did in the small time we were…together. My head is aware of where I stand with Aspen, but it’s my stupid lady bits (and what appears to be the mind of their own) I’m afraid of. I’m terrified the closer I get to him—if I allow things like this to happen—that lines will get blurred and I will end up heartbroken all over again.

“Stop overthinking this,” he says, his words muffled by the blanket he has pulled up to his chin.

Yeah, overthinking this. Totally.

“Why don’t you sleep with the dolls? It’s not like you’ll find them creepy.”

One of his eyes opens as he looks over his shoulder, and he quirks an eyebrow. “You’re going to force me to sleep in that room? When you won’t even do it?”

Shuffling my feet on the ground, I shrug. “You’re a lot braver than I am. Big strong man, remember?”

He laughs, moving deeper into the bed. “Big strong man? That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me in years.”

“Great. Does that mean you’ll take the creepy room?”

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