Page 65 of Fractured

There were three men in my bedroom and one sleeping on the furniture in the living room, so company was the one thing I wasn’t lacking. I loved her, but I wasn’t ready to let her meet them just yet. But…

“I have company right now.” Without waiting for her to reply, I rushed through my explanation, at least confident she wouldn’t judge me. “I’ve been seeing a few different men, and well, they’re here right now.”

Silence.

“Are you there?” I knew she hadn’t hung up because her breathing was loud and clear.

She coughed. “Yeah, I had to clean out my ears. Did you say you were seeing a few men?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t even find the strength to smile at her incredulity.

“And you said they are there right now? As in plural?”

“Yes. Before you ask, there are four men here.” In some ways, I was scared that putting that information out there would somehow jinx what I had, but in other ways, it was liberating to be honest with my best friend.

“As a therapist, I’m not quite sure what to make of that. As your best friend, I’d say hell yeah! Tell me they have beautiful dicks. You know I’m a dick girl.”

She was. Harper never much cared about status or money. She was independent and didn’t care what people thought. What she did care about was what their dicks looked like and if they knew how to use them.

“They do, but listen, I’m not feeling the greatest right now. Can I call you back later?” Saint turned over on the couch, grunting softly as his eyes fluttered. It wouldn’t be long before he woke up.

“I will let you go this time, Lilith. This time. But I want to hear about these men of yours very soon.” I couldn’t decide if she was more excited or surprised from her tone of voice.

“I promise.” We said our goodbyes and hung up.

It was early, just after seven, and the sun was slowing creeping through the windows. I had opened them when I got up, just to let a bit of fresh crisp air in. The quiet of the neighborhood was comforting. Another hour, and the street would be bustling and I’d have to shut the window. The clashing sounds would be too much.

I got another five minutes to myself before Saint was sitting up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and his bare chest with the other. He’d taken to sleeping at my place after the hospital episode on Wednesday. I wasn’t complaining. He was the perfect partner, taking care of me while letting me stew in my own mind.

Laughing, I dropped my head to stare into my coffee. Harper would probably say that was exactly what I didn’t need. She was a talker, and given her profession, she felt she could solve anything by talking it out. Again and again if necessary.

Which was also part of why I’d never shared my entire past with her.

“Good morning,” Saint said gruffly as he passed me to go to the bathroom.

“Morning.” I might be borderline depressed and barely functioning, but I could still be a good host and make him a cup of coffee. Especially since I hadn’t left my bed at all yesterday.

I handed him the mug of black coffee when he came back to the kitchen. His chest was bare of any hair except a light trail below his belly button. He took a sip as he leaned against the counter, and his abs flexed. A trickle of awareness cut through the abyss of emptiness I’d been battling.

“My eyes are up here,” Saint said, startling me from my musings. He wore a faint grin and had a twinkle in his eyes.

“Sorry,” I muttered and turned to the counter, wiping off the nonexistent crumbs.

“Don’t be,” he said as he slid his arms around my waist to hug me from behind. The awareness flared back to life as my eyes fluttered shut. Saint was the hardest to connect to physically, not because he wasn’t affectionate, because he was, but he always seemed to be holding something back.

Whatever it was, it was missing this morning.

“What are you doing?” I asked shakily as he ran his nose along my temple.

“Getting a good morning hug. I’m glad to see you out of bed.” He hummed beneath his breath.

“Me too. I’m not even sure what made me get up this morning.” Or answer Harper’s call.

“Well, whatever it was, I’m happy. And I also have today off.” He lowered his voice as if he hoped to keep it secret from our sleeping friends.

“Mm. You do?” I found myself being coaxed into a better mood by his flirting. Saint was always the one that was one step removed, and I could never tell if he was really here for me as a love interest or as a friend. Whenever I experienced small bits of his desire, I snatched them up with greedy hands.

“I do.” He turned me in his arms, and I went willingly, sliding my hands up behind his neck until just the tips of each hand touched. As I looked up into his dark amber eyes, I felt jagged and damaged but also beautiful and light.

---