Page 47 of Whatever Whispers
“Just until we figure this out,” he says against my lips before another peck there. “Please?”
I climb onto his lap, straddling him. Maybe forward, but it’s not the first time I’ve been in his lap… or the second. “Where will I sleep?”
I know whereIwant to sleep, and where heprobablywants me to sleep. I’m mostly teasing.
“I’ll have the guest room ready for you by tonight.” His eyes sparkle with playfulness.
My mouth falls open again, in mock offense this time, and I pry myself away from him to take my spot on the couch back.
“I’mkidding.” He closes my laptop again just after I’ve placed it back on my lap and reopened it.
“Nope,” I open it again and smack his hand away. “I prefer to sleep with a fan on, so I would appreciate it if you’d stick one in there after you wash the sheets.”
“Quinn.”
I ignore him, focusing on my work again. Or at least pretending to.
“Quinn.”
“You’re distracting me.” I stand, tossing the blanket I had on my lap back onto the couch. “If you need me, I’ll be on the back patio with Kronk.”
I start to walk away, but he stands and catches me around the waist, pulling my back against his front and leaving no space between us. “Fine,” he bends down and rubs his scruff against my neck. “But the bed in the guest room isveryuncomfortable.”
Pulling away from him this time is an absolute burden, but I commit to the bit. “I could sleep on the tile floor and still sleep like a log, so don’t get any ideas about sticking a pea under the mattress to try and wear me down. It won’t work.” That might have been true at one point in time. The ability to sleep anywhere, unpressed, has always been one of my many talents. Until lately, like pretty much everything else.
He doesn’t let me get far before he pulls me into him again, this time wrapping his fingers around my throat and placing a kiss at the base of my ear that is more tongue than anything. “I plan to have you begging to never leave my bed again by tomorrow night at the latest.”
When he releases me I’m a bit breathless. It’s kind of embarrassing the effect he has on me. “Counting on it,” I say with as much confidence as possible, but I can feel the smugness radiating from him as he watches me walk out of the room and out the back door.
21
PLUS, NO MORE GHOSTIES
QUINN
The midday sunbeats down on the campus, and my building looms ominously, a relic from another era with its ivy-clad, cracked stone exterior. The feeling it sparks in my chest is the only reason I feel sad about leaving it behind. I would have moved out in a few months anyway, so it’s not like this wasn’t inevitable, but the small pang of sadness I feel is there nonetheless. I pull the door open and trudge up the stairs that lead to my dorm, dragging my unfolded packing boxes behind me.
This is likely one of the last times I’ll climb these stairs, and while I know howIfeel about that, Kruz is another story.
She’s already waiting by my door when I arrive, and she shivers as we enter the room. Jack was more accepting of me doing this without him because I wouldn't be alone. I insisted he stay with Sienna, and he relented only because his mom already had other plans and he didn’t want to fuck with her bedtime routine.
If only he knew that Kruz is an absolute coward who will run hard and fast in the opposite direction if there’s ever a threat to our safety. I’m not sure she wouldn’t trip me and leave me for dead just to save herself.
Not that Jack really has a say in what I can and cannot do now, but it is kind of cute when he’s bossy in the name of my safety.
I hope he’s just as bossy inotherareas of our relationship too. I suspect he will be. I’ll find out soon enough now that I’m shacking up with him for a while, and I am very much looking forward to it.
“Thank god we’ve finally reached the end of your tenancy here,” Kruz crosses her arms over her chest and rubs her hands up and down her biceps as if she can ward off the preternatural chill.
"Thanks for helping," I place a hand on her forearm. Ultimately, it does mean a lot to me that she faces her unfounded fears of the ghost that inhabits my dorm room to help me out whenever I need a hand.
I turn away from her and sigh. Unlocking my door and stepping inside, I chuck the boxes onto my bed. I catch my reflection in the mirror above my desk, my tension headache is evident on my face, and the dark circles under my eyes give away the amount of sleep I got last night.
"Of course," she answers, plopping down on the bed. "No way I'm letting you pack all this up on your own."
I sit down on the floor and start folding the boxes into their proper shapes, carefully creasing the flaps to make sure they hold together well. After a moment, she joins me, settling down beside me with a smile.
Together, we tackle the task, our hands moving in sync as we transform the piles of flat boxes into something usable.
