Page 72 of Escaping Our Reality

I’m not sure how long I stare at her, but it’s probably long enough to make most people uncomfortable. But most people don’t have a Lulu to look at.

“What did you have to tell me?”

“Stay with me this week. It’s Spring Break. Neither of us have school. I still have work, but we can be together all day and all night. Stay with me.”

She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. She smirks. I knew her sassiness couldn’t stay gone for that long. “That sounds like a statement when it should be a question.”

She’s busting my balls at a time like this?

“Will you stay the week with me, Lulu?”

She pretends to think. She pretends to mull it over. I know she’s going to say yes, but she still makes me sweat it. After an eternity, she takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Perfect. Go pack your shit. I’ll wait.”

Now it’s her time to burst out laughing. “Ry, it’s after two in the morning. This can’t wait until tomorrow?”

I close the distance between us, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and threading my fingers through the tangle of hair escaping from her bun. “Do you wanna wait, Lulu?”

Well, that had more sexual connotation than I meant for it to, but hell, if she doesn’t swell her chest out, making my erection ache.

“No.” Her fingers graze across the top of my jeans, barely whispering across my scorching hot skin. “But it’s late. Let’s stay here tonight. I’ll pack up tomorrow and follow you. That way, I’ll have my car in case I need to come back to town for something.”

It’s settled then. We’re going to stay the night together. We’re going to stay the week together.

When I was little, I wanted to go to Disney World. I wanted to go so bad my little heart actually ached with longing. I eventually outgrew it, but the lingering wish stayed with me for years. That’s how I feel now. A lingering wish is finally coming true. And I’m not even talking about sex. I’m talking about having a life with someone.

Albeit just for a week.

“Come on.” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me behind her, into her bedroom. I pretend not to notice the tremble of her hand. Her comforter and sheets are already turned down, indicating that she was, in fact, in bed, or about to go to bed. I know because Lulu always makes her bed each morning. That’s what Carrie taught her to do, so that’s what she does. “Do you need a toothbrush?”

“I have one in the truck. I can go get it.”

“Don’t be silly. I have extra. You might as well keep one here.” She reaches into a drawer and grabs a handful of toothbrushes. She must buy in bulk. Tossing back the pinks and purples, she gives me a blue one, and we stand together at her sink, brushing our teeth.

When finished, she untangles her hair and starts to brush it. I meander across the threshold and stare at her bed. “Which side do you sleep on?”

“I sleep in the middle, usually, so I guess it doesn’t matter. What about you?”

I chuckle. “As you know, I either sleep on a twin bed or a blow-up mattress, so I’m pretty much in the middle too.”

“Well then, you choose.”

I slip out of my boots and socks. I tug off my T-shirt and toss it on the chair in the corner of her room. My belt buckle clangs together as I pull it from my belt loops. I plop down on the bed.

Sweet mother of pearl.

This bed is like laying in a swimming pool of clouds and cotton. The sheets smell like lavender and Lulu. One day Iwillhave a bed like this. I’ll have sheets that smell like lavender. And I’ll be the one who gives it to Lulu. Not the other way around.

I prop up on my elbows and watch her as she emerges from the bathroom. She’s nervous. But she holds her head high, never breaking my gaze. In fact, her eyes widen in appreciation of the view, making my own nipples hard. She likes me being in her bed.

Well, get damn used to it, woman.

She pulls the sweatshirt over her head. When she does, her T-shirt gets hung in the bottom of the sweatshirt band and it rumples upward, revealing her light blue cotton panties. She’s left standing there in that big, oversized T-shirt.

It takes me a second to read the writing on the front.

A fraternity.

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