Page 119 of Burn Bright
Soon, she’s completely knocked out.
Seeing Harriet so quickly and so easily fall asleep in my arms catapults me to cloud nine. My chest rises as my lungs inflate, and a smile edges across my mouth. I’m in some kindof paradise, just existing with her in this second. Where worries can’t find me. Where fears don’t flourish. Where panic doesn’t thrive.
I want to live here.
I want to stop time again.
I want to freeze this peaceful moment with this one girl.
Very softly, I breathe, “Bonne nuit, petit oiseau.”
Being this close to her body heat while pent-up has set me on fire, and I gently pull away, bringing the quilt higher up her shoulders before sliding out of it.
My feet touch the ground. I stand and inhale a few deep breaths through my nose, glancing back at Harriet. Forceful emotions barrel into me.
How do I leave her in two months?I have to leave her.
Warring sentiments. I’m at odds with myself, but this clash is nothing new. My mind has been a battle zone for the past three years with no winner.
I walk away from the pull-out. The microwave clock glows in the dark kitchen. Flicking on the sink faucet, I wash my hands hurriedly, trying not to waste water. I hear the soft creak of a door down the hall that leads to Tom and Eliot’s rooms.
Seconds later, Eliot emerges in nothing but deep-red boxer-briefs. His bare feet pad quietly along the floorboards.
I shut off the faucet with my elbow. Even in the dark, I can see the gleam of sweat along Eliot’s toned muscles.
Running two hands through his damp hair, he slicks back the wavy strands, then flashes me a wry smile that personifiesdebauchery.“Greetings and salutations.” He meanders to the coffee pot like it’s eight in the morning and nottwo.
My forehead creases. “Coffee?” I ask in a whisper.
“The night is young.” He wags his brows.
I smile from his infectious energy.
Eliot comes to my side to fill the reservoir with sink water. “I’m only on round two. You?”
He’s talking about sex. I know he is. Oversharing is commonplace with Eliot, and I’d like it more if I didn’t feel like it was a tactic for me to spill my guts too.
I lean on the counter. “I didn’t need to know that, man.”
“Knowledge is power, little brother.” He tilts his head to me, then toward the couch where Harriet sleeps. “Do you know what you’re doing with that one?”
His question is a slingshot to my brain. I don’t fully understand what he’s asking. If he were inquiring about whether I hooked up with her, he would just come out and ask if we fucked.
“Doing?” I lower my voice.
“Yes, doing.” He returns the filled reservoir to the machine and grabs a bag of Colombian coffee from the cabinet. His gaze drops to the beaded bracelets on my wrist. The ones that belong to Harriet.
My head whirls. I grip the marble counter. “She’s my friend.”
Eliot slides me a darker grin as he shakes out a generous amount of grounds into the paper filter. “So you’ve said.”
I’m not in the mood to argue with him, especially not when I just made Harriet come. It’s one thing to defend myself from a baseless accusation, but now…I don’t know what to call this. Wearestill friends. But I definitely don’t give orgasms to all my friends. I definitely don’t imagine sliding my cock in my friends. I’m definitely not this emotionally invested in my friends.
I’ve definitely never fallen foranyfriend.
Fuck.
I scrub a tensed hand down my hard jaw. I should just call it a night and return to the couch, but something roots me in the kitchen. Maybe it’s Eliot’s calmness. He’s rarely ever this subdued. It relaxes me in a way that usually only Beckett can.
