Page 71 of There's No Us Without You
Usually, my bed is made each morning, but seeing as I didn’t sleep in here last night, and I ran out of the house as fast as I could, my sheets are still a rumpled mess, and my pillow is still lying on the floor where it landed last night.
This is fucked on so many levels, but seeing her in my bed beats all the times I’ve imagined it.
It’s only missing one other person right now...
I’ve never missed him so much as I do in this moment. I need him. Need him to tell me that whatever I’m feeling isn’t going to crush everything I’ve worked so hard to fight against.
I need his reassurance.
He’s the only constant in my life. Is Eden going to be another, or is she going to leave just like everyone else?
For a moment I just stand there, staring at her, while my heart dances around inside my chest.
Groaning, I grab the back of my shirt and drag it over my head. Eden’s scent lingers on the fabric, so I scrunch it in my hands and press the cotton to my nose to take a deep breath. A moan escapes my throat, the scent igniting something raw deep inside me.
Fucking Christ. Now I’m sniffing clothes and watching Eden in her sleep. What I wouldn’t give to strip her clothes off her curvy body and sink my teeth into her soft flesh.
She’d like it—I know she would.
I shake my head of the thoughts swarming my brain and throw the shirt into the laundry hamper in my en suite. Then I climb into bed, manoeuvring my legs under the covers so I don’t wake Eden, while also ignoring the fact my dick is painfully hard and throbbing against the soft cotton of my boxers.
It’s torture, but I’ll endure it because now I know how it feels to have her in my arms, and damn if I don’t want more.
TWENTY
Eden
While shovinganother batch of brownies into the oversized oven, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I may have gone a little overboard, as there are already two batches cooling on the wire racks I’ve placed strategically out of my reach. Out of sight, out of mind.
If I see food, I’ll eat it, whether I’m hungry or not.
Emerson is on his way home from Melbourne right now, hence the brownie party. So he’s going to get the full Eden Reeves experience, including home-made chocolate chunk brownies and my all-time favourite movie—Footloose. And not that remake crap. It’s the original 1984 version with a young, hot Kevin Bacon that does it for me.
I’d blame the brownies for the drool, but let’s face it, I’m a sucker for a mysterious man who shows up out of nowhere—one that knows how to use his body—and sends me into a panic.
My phone vibrates with a message, so I finish licking the leftover brownie mixture from my fingers—who uses a spoon?—and snatch the phone from the island.
I dust off the flour coating the screen and open up the text. It’s from Emerson.
Emerson: Two hours, Pop-Tart! Can’t wait to see your face.
I chew on my bottom lip to stop my stupid grin from growing any bigger. There are a million butterflies flittering around in my stomach as I type a message back.
Me: I’m counting down the minutes.
Hell, I’ve been counting down the days, hours, minutes, seconds since he left. Other than the couple of messages I got from him to say goodnight, it’s been radio silence. I just assumed his lack of communication was because he was busy being a professional soccer star.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin at the recollection of watching the game on Saturday night. The way Emerson scored those two goals had me on the edge of my seat.
Literally.
At one point I screamed so loud, I swear I heard a neighbour yell, “Shut the fuck up!”
Just watching him on the field is mesmerising, and beyond physical attraction. What happens to my body is visceral and has me aching in all the right places.
The only problem is Will has me feeling the same way—has done since I met him—and after the last couple of nights, I have no idea how to navigate that mess of untamed hormones.
One minute he’s so distant, the next he’s carrying me to his bed and holding me while I sleep. Last night, I went to bed alone again because he was working. Then this morning I woke to find myself pressed against Will’s side, my head tucked under his chin as he held me.
