Page 63 of There's No Us Without You
Bad idea.
Bad fucking idea.
I rub the back of my neck and glance over to the open doorway. “I have an early morning, so ...”
“Oh.” She swallows hard. “That’s... that’s okay,” she says, her shoulders sagging. “Sorry for waking you. Goodnight.”
Gathering the sheets from the end of the bed, Eden spreads them out again, smoothing the wrinkles down before pulling them to her waist.
Why does saying no to her feel like I just kicked a puppy?
Jesus.
I’m going to regret this.
“Fine,” I say, lifting my face to the ceiling and blowing out a breath.
What the hell am I doing?
Eden’s face lights up, her hopeful eyes crinkling at the sides when she smiles. She pats the bed beside her and holds the corner of the sheet open so I can climb in next to her.
I keep as much distance as I can between our bodies. Not that the distance helps my situation—the heat radiating from her body makes me regret my decision immediately.
The last thing I need is for her to think we’re friends, or worse—that we could be more than that.
With her head on a pillow, her dark hair fanning over it, Eden sighs. “Night, Will. Sweet dreams.”
“Night.” I stare at the whirling ceiling fan, now unable to sleep.
Tomorrow is going to be fun.
Fighting my attraction to Eden should come easy, considering I’ve been doing it with Emerson since the day I met him. But trying to pretend with both is now becoming too much.
At some point, I’m going to lose my control completely, and I’m not sure if we can come back from whatever happens when I do.
Eden being here has changed things. For one, the smile on my best friend’s face. The way he’s beginning to look at me like he feels something other than friendship.
I’ve caught him over the last few months, watching me when he thinks I’m not looking. The thing is, I’m always watching him. It’s hard not to.
He’s mesmerising.
But I haven’t had an actual relationship since Gabby, and look how that turned out.
I got too close. Too trusting. I’m never letting that happen again.
After fifteen minutes of me staring at the ceiling, Eden shuffles closer, the tip of her nose just millimetres from my shoulder. She’s out cold, but I’m wide awake, my dick and heart having a contest over which one can store the most amount of blood.
Fucking Christ.
Sleepovers aren’t my thing. Yet, here I am, breaking more of my rules.
What am I supposed to do, though? My body knows she’s good for me, but my brain keeps telling me it’s a huge goddamn mistake to let her anywhere near my heart.
SEVENTEEN
Eden
When I getinto work the next afternoon, Stella—the closest person I have to a friend—is already setting up for the dinner rush.
