Page 77 of Any Second Now
Careful not to shake the bed too much, I slowly wiggle my body until my toes are hanging off, then swing my legs over until I can sit up and place my feet firmly onto Atticus’s bedroom floor.
I sneak a look at the gorgeous man sleeping lightly in bed behind me. He’s probably going to be unhappy that I’m sneaking out. But I can’t sleep. I need to go. I stand and hunt around the dark room for my belongings. My clothes are in a messy pile in front of the bed.
A delightful shiver runs up and down my body when I think of the way he talked to me last night. The way he made me beg. I cover my mouth with a hand and tiptoe out of the room, grabbing my things from the floor next to his bedroom door and pulling the door mostly shut behind me.
I duck into the hallway bathroom and pull on my jeans. I have one arm half out of Atticus’s jersey when I change my mind.
Nah. I’ll wear it home. I can return it later.
I catch myself in the mirror and breathe out in a huff.
My hair’s sticking up everywhere—sex hair if I’ve ever seen it. I have mascara smudged beneath my eyes and remnants of foundation on my cheeks. My contacts feel like burlap on my eyeballs.
I’m way too old to be sleeping in makeup or my contacts.
I am a hot mess. Yet… I find myself smiling.
It’s gonna take me hours to process all of this. Days. Months? Years? But I can drive myself home and start that thinking tonight, since I’m sober now.
I open the bathroom door. Across the hall, Atticus’s bedroom door is wide open.
“You aren’t trying to sneak out, are you?” Atticus appears in the hallway from the kitchen, two water bottles in his hands.
The man is standing there like some kind of greek god in his boxer briefs, his ab muscles ready to cut steel, arms strong and screaming to be touched, thighs thick. Heat flushes through my entire body.
“Uhh—” I’m fully dressed—in his jersey, no less—with my bag in hand. No denying my intentions. “Kinda.”
Atticus’s face falls.
“It’s one o’clock in the morning. You’re really gonna walk through the streets of Fort Collins to your car, then drive into the forest by yourself in the middle of the night?”
Yikes. That sounds terrible.
“Guess I hadn’t really thought it through.”
“What if there’s a bear lying in the hammock, Raleigh?”
“Do bears… sleep in hammocks?” I’m half horrified and half entertained. I hadn’t really considered middle-of-the-night wildlife, which is shameful, because I’m sure Megghen thinks about bears all the time.
“Not the point, coach.”
I press my lips together. “I gotta get home and feed Megghen. She’s probably terrified by herself.”
“Is she inside?” Atticus looksadorably concerned.
“Of course.”
“Phew.” He breathes out pointedly, still clutching the two bottles of water, still looking gorgeous. “Fine. We’ll go to the Pink Palace. But I’m gonna bet a year’s salary that my bed—” he nods into his open bedroom door. “—is a lot more comfortable than yours. Let me get dressed.”
My jaw drops as he dips into his room.
This was not the development I expected.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up to the Pink Palace in my car with Atticus in his Wrangler right behind me. He wanted to drive me but I wasn’t feeling awesome about being stuck at the campsite dependent on someone else. Even Atticus.
It’s pitch dark as the gravel crunches under my tires and I am very, very grateful that Atticus insisted he come with me.
I get out of my car and gently close the door. The sounds of the middle of the night on the edge of Colorado wilderness blanket me. The rhythmic chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs. An owl hoots. Rustling in the woods—thankfully, Atticus appears by my side.
