Page 47 of Pinky Promises

Chapter 19

Brynn

Theroomilluminatesfromthe lightning outside; it’s as if someone keeps flipping the light switch on and off quickly. And moments later, a loud clap of thunder booms.Okay, and now I’m definitely awake.I pull the covers up under my chin as the storm rages outside. The rain patters against the window, and my breathing accelerates.

I close my eyes and try to even out my breathing, repeating to myself,I’m okay; it’s just a storm. It’s outside, and I’m safe.

I’m torn with what to do next. I could turn the TV on and drown out the storm with an episode ofThe RoyalsorHow I Met Your Mother, or I could walk down the hall and curl up in the safety of Callum’s arms. His comforting touch always brings me peace. I know that I put those silly rules in place, but I did it because it was the only thing I could think of to protect my heart. We are newly figuring out where this will go, and the last thing we need is everyone interfering in our business. I want this one thing for us while we navigate it.

But when another thunder roars just moments later, indicating the storm is getting closer, I quickly decide for the latter. I hop up out of bed as if it was filled with bugs and rush to the door. I slowly open that door and look out into the hall. Why I do it so stealthily, I have no clue. I pad the few feet between my room and his. His door is partially open, and light streams through the tiny crack. He is notorious for falling asleep with the TV on, especially when he gets on a binger like he is right now with some show Zoe convinced him to watch. The day Netflix added the button to continue watching without asking me again was one of the best days of his life.

I push the door open enough for me to slip through. I was correct, and the TV is on, but when I look over at the bed, he is passed out.

I walk over to the bed and lift the cover, slipping in, careful not to disturb him. Cal’s eyes remain shut, but he must sense me or feel the slight dip in the bed because as I settle in next to him, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me tight against him. Pressing a kiss to the top of my head, he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

I relax into his arms and fall right back to sleep, feeling safe from the storm.

We must have separated at some point in the night because when I wake up, I find Callum’s eyes open and staring at me with such love and adoration. I swallow thickly at the intensity of his stare.

“Stop staring at me like a creeper. You know you’re making a habit of staring at me as I sleep.”

He smirks and brushes a piece of fallen hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The notion is so intimate.

“You’re here,” he whispers.

I nod.

“Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”

I nod again. I place my palm against the warm skin of his chest. “Does this feel real?”

He places his hand over mine. “Yeah.”

“I know I broke my own rules, but—”

“The storm.”

“So, you do remember.”

“I remember you sneaking in, and I held you all night long.”

“Then why did you ask if this was a dream?”

He chuckles and rolls to his back, propping his hand behind his fist. “Because even though I knew you snuck in here, I wasn’t sure that I was going to wake up to you still here. I would’ve figured you would have tried to sneak out while I was still asleep.”

“I should probably go.”

“Uh-uh. We both don’t have somewhere we need to be just yet. Let me enjoy this for a few more moments.”

He grabs my hand and tugs me against his chest. It catches me off guard, and I lose my balance and fall against him, and my knee comes directly in contact with his balls.

Callum flies up off the bed. His deep groan fills the room, quite possibly the entire apartment floor.

“Ahh,” I shriek and cover my mouth with both of my hands. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Cal is now bent over, rolling from side to side with one hand on his junk, grumbling curse words.

I scramble to help him, unsure of what to do, but he just tries to push me away with the hand that is not currently holding himself. “Oh my God, get away from me, you horrible, horrible person,” he manages to say, his voice pained but also laughing. It’s not one of those ha-ha laughs, though; it’s one of thoseI don’t know how to react, so laughter it istypes of laughs. Like when you find yourself laughing inappropriately at a funeral. Well, here we are mourning his balls.

I bet he definitely wishes that he had been dreaming this morning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I repeat over and over in between my laughter. Tears are running down my face.

“Stop laughing. It’s only making it worse.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. This is what I get for breaking my own rules and sleeping in your bed.”

“Oh, so that was karma for it, huh? Thanks a lot for making my balls just collateral damage in the grand plan.”

“Exactly.” I wipe away my tears, and Cal sits up carefully.

His hand finds my cheek and reassuringly runs his thumb back and forth over my skin. “I’d wear a cup to bed every day if it meant I got to keep you here.”

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