Page 55 of Runaway
“Stay, please?” she asked quietly. “I don't want anything to happen tonight, I just . . . I'm a little scared.”
The plea in her voice shattered me.
“Of course.”
Stella scooted closer to the wall while I stretched out next to her and arranged the covers over both of us. She'd already layered the bed with the extra blankets I'd stacked at the end just in case. How long had she been shivering up here, alone? She hesitated on the sheets next to me, stiff like a board.
I broke the hesitation in the air by pulling her close. With a relieved sigh, she molded her body into mine. I curled my arm around her back to close the space between us and ran the tip of my fingers in a circle on her shoulder. She splayed a hand on my chest, her hair spilling across my shoulder. The light scent of apricot still rose from her skin and curled in my nose.
“Thank you,” she whispered so softly that I wondered for a moment if I'd just imagined it. She tilted her head, tucked her face into my neck, and her breathing evened out moments later.
For the next hour I stared at the ceiling, paralyzed to the same spot. My heart raced as the thoughtI fell in love with Stella Marieran through my mind like a busy ticker tape over and over and over again. I didn't try to stop it, because it was true.
And I knew I couldn't tell her.
Not yet.
Because of whatever amazing thing we had going here, I wasn't willing to break with reality. And in reality, women ran away from me all the time.
But not this one.
This one would stay. So I grabbed my phone, logged into my dating app, navigated to my profile, and closed the account with great relish.
Mark Bailey was finally off the market.
And hopefully for good.
21
Stella
“Marcus Aurelis Bailey!”
The sound of a woman calling up the ladder jerked me out of sleep with a little cry of shock. A warm hand on my arm, followed by a groan, brought me the rest of the way. I blinked, half tangled in dreams with mountain lions and Joshua and Mark before memory served. Mark shuffled next to me, his body radiating heat despite the cool mountain air outside our little cocoon.
Right.
Weird night.
“Go away!” Mark shouted toward the direction of the stairs. He tucked his face back into my neck.
“Mark,” I whispered. “Who is that?”
“My annoying-as-crap little sister.”
My eyes flew open. “What?” I squeaked quietly. “Megan is here?”
“Apparently.”
His hard-as-a-rock body was curled at my back and warmer than a stove. My nose felt nippy with cold, but the rest of me was toasty. An obscure white glow seemed to fill the world outside.
“I haven't even seen my gladiator yet, Mark,” Megan called, sounding closer now. “I came to say hi to you first because Justin says you've been whining about how much attention you're not getting.”
Panic woke me the rest of the way. I tried to shove him off the bed before Megan came up here and found us like this. What a great introduction that would make. When I yanked the covers over my head, Mark chortled.
“Mark!” I hissed. “She can't find us like this! She'll—”
He laughed then, a deep, rolling timbre that cut all the way to my bones. “Point made,” he called to Megan, having mercy on me. “You win two best-sister-ever points. Go see your gladiator and come back. I'll be awake by then.”
