Page 92 of Bad at Love

I’ve spent my whole day worrying about him. Though I got things done, it was all around Storm.

Finish cleaning the kitchen. Check on Storm.

Fold the clothes. Check on Storm.

Make dinner. Check on Storm.

I don’t hate it. It didn’t ruin my mood or my day, and I don’t feel bad for doing it or put-out by it. Doing it was almost natural. It’s just… different. I’m not used to caring about someone outside of what they think of me.

I hang my keys up by the door and head upstairs, finding Storm’s door partly open. I peek inside and see him sitting on the bed, eating the food I brought him that must be cold by now.

He looks up, our eyes meet, and I just stand there. It’s like my feet have grown roots.

I want to talk, but something is stopping my mouth from opening. There’s some invisible force that is making it impossible to move. My stomach twists and this stupid voice in the back of my head tells me I need to take a step back from this situation. That it isn’t going to end well for me if I push to hard right now.

Storm blinks and breaks the spell, so I keep moving into my room, shutting the door behind me and changing into my pajamas before getting into bed. It’s late and I’m going back to work tomorrow, so I need to get back on track with my routine. Going away for the long weekend, especially with the time change, messed me up.

I toss and turn for what feels like hours, but eventually fall asleep. Only to be woken up a short time later to someone getting into my bed, which has me jerking awake and pushing myself up to see who it is. The shadow of someone is beside me, frozen halfway to getting under the blankets.

“Sorry,” is whispered into the dark.Storm.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice sleepy.

“I wanted to apologize for today.”

“By crawling into my bed in the middle of the night and scaring me half to death?”

He shrugs, not saying a word.

I sigh and lie back down. He finishes getting in, scooting closer to me and carefully putting his arm around my waist and tugging me to him so my back is to his front.

We don’t share beds here. Not in this house. We did while we were on vacation, but that was there. yet… Here we are. AndI don’t hate this. The thought of him being in my bed doesn’t bother me at all.

Storm kisses the back of my head. “I’m sorry I was mean earlier.”

“You were upset about something.”

“Not an excuse.”

“I’ve done it to you plenty.”

“Still not an excuse.”

“Apology accepted,” I say, assuming that’s what he needs to hear.

I’m not sure what else to tell him. I’m not mad about him snapping at me. It hurt, yes, but it wasn’t intentional. And he’s apologizing, so that should be enough, right? Yet, something still feels off and I can’t place what it is. Maybe just him being in my room, in my bed, that no one but myself has ever laid in? Not even Tara shared this bed with me, and she never came in here. But I don’t think that’s it either, but I already decided I don’t hate this.

“Thank you,” he whispers, nuzzling his face against the back of my neck. “Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Guess we’ll find out in the morning.”

He huffs out the smallest laugh, kissing me one more time before I fall asleep again.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Storm

I wake up feeling more refreshed than I have in a long time. Gabriel’s bed is much more comfortable than mine, the sheets are silk or something. But that isn’t the only reason I slept well, because the bed at the hotel was comfortable too. This bed is Gabe’s. It’s a private place for him, and he let me in. Something about that…