Page 147 of Off Camera
I hum when I stretch out my legs, delirious from a sleep I desperately needed.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice thick.
“Hi,” I say back. “What time is it?”
“Not sure. Last I checked it was past ten. You fell asleep and I carried you in here. Fell asleep myself. I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.”
“You aren’t,” I say hurriedly, and I spin in his hold so I can face him. “Please don’t go.”
He yawns and rubs my back. “If you insist.”
“I didn’t realize I was so tired. My entire body aches. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“Do you want me to run you a bath?” Reid slurs, and he sounds more delirious than me. “Might warm you up. Your feet are like fucking icicles.”
“Because I normally sleep in socks. My equilibrium is all thrown off.”
“You’re a fucking weirdo.”
“Yet here you are. Curled around me like a vine and making no effort to leave.”
“Yeah, because you’re my weirdo,” he says.
I bury my face in his bare chest. He’s warm and soft and smells like the soap I love—pine trees in the middle of a forest and the hint of rain. I blink back fresh tears, and I hate how exposed I feel right now.
“What hurts?” Reid asks. “I unplugged the heating pad before you fell asleep because the instructions said to not leave it on for extended periods of time. Let me get it set up for you.”
“It’s not the heating pad,” I say, lifting my chin to look at him.
“It’s not?” He wipes away my tears with his thumb and smiles. He blows out a breath and touches my cheek. “God. You’re so beautiful.”
“You told me I looked like shit earlier in the night.”
“You’re still beautiful even when you look like shit. Sometimes I—” Reid swallows and shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“Tell me,” I plead.
“You need to sleep. To rest and relax. I shouldn’t be talking your ear off.”
“I want to hear it.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe I get to be here with you,” he tells me, and it’s the softest he’s ever spoken. “It’s overwhelming, honestly. I look at you and…” he trails off, the words difficult to find, but I’m hanging on to every syllable he gives me. “I can’t believe I get to exist within a four-foot radius of you. You’re made of dreams, Avery, and I’m the guy lucky enough for even a few minutes of your time.”
“Reid.” The lump in my throat seems impossible to ignore, but I forge on. “I need to tell you something.”
“Hang on.” He fumbles behind him, reaching for his glasses, and slides them on his face. “There you are. I like you a lot more when you’re not blurry.”
“Speaking of liking things.” I sit up, and the sheets pool around my waist. “I don’t know how to say this without being direct, so I’m just going to go for it. Having you here tonight made me realize I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“You haven’t?” He frowns and props up on an elbow. “Is this anotherWatchmanthing?”
“Not exactly. You’ve done all these wonderful things for me, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you think you were operating under one school of thought, when really, it’s something entirely different.”
“I know I’m tired, but you’re talking in circles, Ave.” He puts his hand on my forehead. “Are you running a fever? Let me get you some water.”
“I like you,” I blurt out, and he gapes at me. “A lot. In a more than friends way. In a more than friends with benefits kind of way. I have feelings for you, and I can’t let you sleep next to me thinking this is purely platonic for me. It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, I don’t think, but tonight solidified it. I’m so happy when you’re around, Reid. I… I miss you when you’re gone. I check my phone constantly to see if you’ve sent me a message. The time I get to spend with you is the best part of my day.”
“Avery, I?—”
