Page 284 of Blood & Betrayals

“Please, Connor. You’re too tall for the couch.”

Connor scans my eyes, and then he takes a deep breath. “I’ll sleep in the bed with you then.”

My lips part, taken aback a little, but I nod. Connor plucks the glass from my hand and places it beside his on the coffee table. He takes my hand as we stand up and leads me to my bedroom. I follow behind him, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. Connor pulls off his pants and shirt and slides into the bed. I follow suit but pull on his discarded shirt. His scent and warmth envelop me, and I feel comforted again as I climb into bed, careful not to touch him.

Connor opens his arms, but I notice his hesitation and don’t move closer. “It’s okay, Con. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Your hesitation begs to differ.”

Connor wearily slides his hand over his face. “Summer, I’m trying.”

I blush and move into his arms. Connor wraps himself around me, pulling me close, though my muscles remain tense.

“Relax,” Connor says, kissing the top of my head. “It’s going to be all right.” I nod and kiss his jaw gently before laying my head back down. “I’m here.”

I try to relax, but the more I try, the more tense I seem to get, the louder my mind gets.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” Connor asks, obviously sensing that his presence isn’t relaxing me.

I tighten my arms around him. “No. Please stay. My mind is just very loud right now.”

Connor brushes his lips over mine. The kiss is tentative at first, but he relaxes into it. I match his pace, not daring to deepen the kiss at all. I’ll give Connor as much time or space as he needs.

“We’re going to get through this,” Connor whispers. “We should sleep.”

I nod and curl into him. Connor falls asleep slower than usual, but I am still awake long after he has drifted off. I am left alone, staring at the ceiling with nothing to distract me from my thoughts until my phone pings. I reach over Connor and grab it, opening the message.

105

Summer

Iclimb out of bed and pad into the living room to call Stranger. The phone rings once, twice, three times, and then there is the blissful sound of the line connecting.

“Little fae?” His voice is unglamoured again, as promised, and a shiver runs down my spine at the sound of it. It’s deep, dangerous, and erotic.

I sit on the couch and take a steadying breath. “Stranger.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Are you all right?” he asks, and I hear him swallow. I imagine him with a drink in his hand.

I glance over my shoulder at my closed bedroom door. “It’s been a rough day.”

“I heard,” he says after a long pause.

“You did?”

“I was watching the school.”

“Right.” I exhale heavily. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

He sighs. “It’s nice to hear yours, too.”

“What’s with the sigh?” I ask.

“Been a difficult day for me, too.” I hear him take another drink. “You wanted to talk about the killer.”

I hold the phone a little tighter. “There has been another murder. My suspicions were right.” I take a steadying breath, trying to swallow my fear enough to voice my reality. “Whoever it is, they’re watching me.” I stand and walk to the window in the kitchen, peering out at the obsidian night.

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