“Ugh.” I roll around on my bed. It’s early, way too early. I know this because it’s mostly dark out and because that annoying trumpet isn’t blaring in my ears.
I shut my eyes, but I can’t fall back asleep. I’m too wideawake, thinking about Warner and how much fun I had dancing with him and my friends. I want to do it again. Would he invite me to the next party? And maybe the one after that?
My throat is a little scratchy and I need a drink. I sit up and am about to get out of bed, but freeze when I take in the form on the second bed.
Caleb. He’s sleeping.
I push the covers aside and tiptoe to his bed to get a better look at him. He’s on his back, one arm stretched over the edge of the bed, the other hidden under his blanket. His dark hair is curled on his forehead and I have this weird urge to push it aside. I can’t see him so well in the dark, but I can make out his eyes. They’re fluttering. Is he dreaming? What does a guy like him dream about?
He looks so peaceful. So normal. Like a regular teen guy. There’s no irritation or frustration in his eyes. He’s not in “serious protector mode.” He’s just normal.
It makes a calmness wash over me.
Just as I turn to go to the kitchenette for a drink, fingers wrap around my wrist, yanking me toward the bed. I let out a small yelp.
“Addilyn.”
His eyes are wide awake now.
“What are you doing?” He sits up sharply. “Did something happen?” He frantically searches the room, his jaw clenching, as if he’s upset with himself for falling asleep.
I tug on my captured wrist. “Can you let go?”
He drops my hand. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He just stares at me, as if waiting for more details.
I tuck some hair behind my ear. I don’t want to tell him I can’t sleep because of Warner. I don’t want to sound pathetic that I’m so excited because a guy possibly likes me. And besides, I don’t need his negativity. I figure the less we speak about Warner, the better.
Caleb is still waiting for an explanation.
“What? I just couldn’t sleep. It happens sometimes.”
He narrows his eyes as he tries to figure me out. “Okay, but what are you doinghere?” He gestures at his bed. “Unless you felt like you were in danger.” He studies me again.
“Yep. That was totally it.”
His body straightens in alarm. “You felt like you were in danger? Why? Where?” He searches around again.
Now I feel bad. “No! No! Sorry, I didn’t feel like I was in danger. I mean, I woke up and it was dark and I got scared for a second. But that was it.”
He watches me again. “Then why did you come here?” He gestures at his bed again.
“If you must know, I was going to get a drink.”
“Kitchenette is that way.” He tilts his head toward the other end of the room.
“It was dark and I got confused.”
He narrows his eyes at me again.
“I’m going back to bed,” I mutter as I turn to go.
“What about your drink?”
“Not thirsty anymore.” I climb into bed and throw myblanket over myself. I can feel his heavy, intense eyes on me. But I don’t dare face him again. He’s pretending that he has no clue, but he knows without a doubt that I was watching him sleep.