Page 13 of Splintered Security
Melt my heart, why don’t you, Lorenzo Gallo.
He extends a hand, and I accept it, and we walk down the hall to his room.
“I, uh…”
“Do you know how many times, just today, you’ve started a sentence around me only to second guess yourself and cut off your words mid-thought?”
I don’t, but I’m guessing the brutal-honesty-slash-gentle-confrontation part has begun. “Are you going to tell me?
“I stopped counting at six, and that’s not the point. I’m merely mentioning you don’t need to worry. Speak plainly with me. I can take it.”
“Okay. Why are we going to your bedroom? I can sleep on the sofa.”
“Because I’m being selfish. I don’t want to have to walk down the hall every hour to check your eyes. It’ll be way more convenient to just tap you, check, and go back to sleep. And because having you comfortable with me isn’t a bad thing when we have to convince people we’re in love in less than thirty-six hours.”
By the time he’s finished with his reply, we’re in his bedroom, and I’m desperately trying to figure out what to do. My first stall tactic is to go pee. But that’s quick, so then I’m left with stall tactic number two. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?”
He rounds the bed silently and opens a drawer under the sink, pulling out a head for an electric toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. I load up and begin while he settles into the bed, groaning a bit and settling on his side, the sheet bunching around his waist.
When I’m all out of stall tactics, all I’m left with is getting in bed.
With Ren Gallo.
My childhood-crush-turned-fiancé.
I slide under the covers, staying as far away from him as I can on the large mattress. I roll so my back is to Ren, practically hugging the edge of the bed, and fight to find sleep.
My dreams are wild. Explosions and sirens. Animals and bright colors. Wedding bells and confetti. And August.
“Anni? Anni.”
Who is that? And where am I?
Fear hits first. The light is in the wrong place in the room, the smell is wrong, and there’s a huge warm hand on my shoulder.
“Wake up, Anni. I need to check your eyes.”
Ren. Thank God, it’s just Ren.
I roll to my back to see him looming over me. “You’re not going to like this.” And with that preamble, he shines a light in one eye and then the other. “Good. Go back to sleep.”
Sure. “No problem. Strange bed, strange room, new house, weird sounds, and the damn lights in my eyes. Sounds peachy.” As if I could go back to sleep.
Apparently, I do, because it’s lather, rinse, repeat however many more times until sunlight pours in the windows, and I wake, wrapped in Ren’s arms. My hands rest between us and my face rests on his biceps, my forehead on his pec. This shouldn’t be comfortable.
But it is.
Enveloped in his warmth, I fake sleep for a moment or two longer. I don’t want to move and break this up. And I certainly don’t want to confront that fact either.
“Anni.” Ren’s low growl rumbles through his chest, but I feel it everywhere we’re connected.
I pretend not saying anything means I’m still asleep.
“Sunshine, I know you’re awake.”
My eyes flick to his. “How?”
Dear Lord, his face in the morning light, the smile that plays on his lips, the scruff of his black beard. How will I ever survive this farce?
