Page 32 of Embrace Me Forever

Restlessness crawls under my skin, urging me to move. I swing my legs off the bed and pad downstairs, careful not to disturb the quiet.

In the dim light of the living room, I find my lovely guest hunched over the coffee table, a pencil in hand, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. She’s deep in concentration, her brow furrowed. I notice the stationery supplies—my stationery supplies—from the guest room.

“Isn’t it hurting your head?” I ask, the rows of tangled numbers and symbols making my own head throb.

She looks up, startled, but her expression relaxes when she sees me. “Ah, these are just some random problems that I don’t have to solve tonight—or ever. I just can’t sleep,” she admits, her voice a murmur.

“And you’re doing math? Shouldn’t you be reading or something to help you get sleepy? I have some novels in my library if you want a look.”

A small smile tugs at her lips. “You sound like my sister. But I guess you’re not the romance type?”

I chuckle, perching myself on the arm of the couch. “Everything okay with her and your daughter?”

“Yes, thanks.”

I clap my thighs, ready to leave her be. “Well, you should really try to get some sleep.” I glance at the clock.

“Any advice?” she asks lightly.

I feel a gulp rising in my throat. Whenever I struggle to fall asleep, I’ll beat my meat till I pass out. A wry grin forms on my face. “I’m in the same sinking boat, so unfortunately, I don’t have any wisdom to share.”

She chuckles, her lips stretching into a wide smile, making me sigh inwardly—oh, how I ache to kiss that sexy mouth.

“I won’t be much longer,” she says, and as if on cue, she yawns, her eyes watery. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, not at all.”

I’m no stranger to sleepless nights. But losing sleep over a guest—well, that’s a bit different. Losing sleep over a woman, though? Now that’s a whole new ballgame.

She plays with the pencil, telling me, “Seriously,youshould get some sleep too. I need you to be my alarm clock.”

I decide to share what’s on my mind. “Hey, what if I fly with you tomorrow?”

She looks surprised, but then she smiles. “Um…yeah.”

“I mean, I’m not trying to be overbearing. I’d just feel better knowing I got you back to your daughter myself.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll probably sit in first class, and I’ll be stuck in economy.”

“I’ll be right next to you.”

“Okay,” she agrees, excitement painting her face. “That makes me feel safer too.”

I’m glad that she’s on board. “Good night, Code Queen.”

Her shy smile makes it damn near impossible to walk away. My heart aches to scoop her up and take her with me, but somehow, I keep my self-control intact.

Back in bed, I force myself to sleep, but it’s like déjà vu. I’ve already counted a hundred sheep jumping over a fence, but now they seem to be throwing a raucous party while I remain wide awake.

Frustration seeps into my bones as I slide my hand into my boxer shorts. I stroke my half-hard rod, desperately needing some relief to knock me out. Thinking about her touch comforts me—too comforting that I stop.

“Fuck…” How many times today have I hated my own thoughts and actions concerning Georgia-May? Life isn’t what it used to be.

I throw off the blanket, sitting up. At a loss for what else to do, I step out to check on Georgia-May downstairs.

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