Page 39 of Apex of the Curve

“Okay, here’s your bag.” I handed her the bag she packed, and I set her briefcase and purse aside. I held out her toiletries in the grocery sack and said, “You know where the bathroom is. Take your time getting ready. Okay?”

“Okay, thank you,” she said, and she ducked out into the hallway and across the hall. I went across to the dresser and lit all the candles on top so I could switch out the overhead light. I hated artificial light and went with flame whenever possible.

Candles lit, I went over to the window and raised it up to get some airflow.

I changed for bed, and by that I mean, I just stripped down to my boxer briefs and got between the sheets under the furs and waited for her to come back, leaving enough room for her to get into bed, my nerves jangling with a low-key excitement of having her cuddled against me again.

I liked the feel of her in my arms. It was different. She was different. There was just something about a good girl, I guess. She had drama around her, but it wasn’t the melodrama of club girls. It wasn’t stupid head games and a bunch of bull fuckery.

Still, I was used to breaking heads not mending hearts, and I worried just about constantly if I was doing things right, especially given my level of attraction to her. I lay there, fingers laced behind my head, on my back, staring at the patterns of firelight on my ceiling and I sighed. I reached over and paired my phone to the Bluetooth speakers in the room, and made sure it was plugged in.

I had a sleep playlist full of lower key, slower, Wardruna tracks I liked on repeat and a stretch of tracks that were just like fifteen minutes of rain falling. I kept the volume low so it was calm, chill, trance inducing. I hoped it worked for her, because without it, I would be lucky if I could get my mind to shut the fuck up long enough to let me get to sleep.

I had started to drift already when she came back in. I jumped slightly as she set her bag down against the chest of drawers inside the door and she straightened looking a little guilty.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s cool, you didn’t. Just c’mere so we can sleep.”

“Yeah, um, is there someplace I can plug this in?” she asked and held up her phone.

“What kind?” I asked.

We got her sorted, and she sat down on the edge of the bed with a slow sigh.

“C’mere, if you like,” I said and held my arms open. She nodded and cuddled into my side, resting her head on my shoulder and breathing out slowly.

“Music going to bother you?” I asked quietly, running my hand up and down her arm, kneading it rhythmically to banish some of the tension she held in her body.

“No, its… nice. I don’t know what they’re saying, though.”

“It’s Norse.” I chuckled slightly.

“Oh.”

I closed my eyes, and we listened to the rhythmic beat, slow like a heartbeat, the overlay of lilting voices, primal, rich and nuanced, evoking images of rich earth and green growing things, of livestock and farm life, of cold still waters, straights and fjords.

I pressed a kiss to Aspen’s forehead and my lips curved as she melted into my side further – tension draining from her, her body soft and yielding against the hard planes and angles of mine.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and I let out a slow breath.

“You got nothing to thank me for,” I told her. “This is nice for me, too.”

The confession was an easy one to make and cost me nothing.

“Is it safe to leave the candles burning like that?” she asked.

“Do it all the time,” I said. They were the church kind, in the tall, thick glass.

“It’s cozy.”

“Yeah.”

We lay in the warm golden glow, silent, wrapped in comfort, and I couldn’t remember a time when my soul felt so much peace.

That part was unexpected… but I liked it.

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