Page 34 of Before Eve
He gets one from the concierge, and we ride the elevator to the top where a heated pool and lounge chairs are, but at this hour there’s only one person doing laps. West leads me to a secluded spot all the way in the corner of the roof and spreads the blanket out. We take our hats off and lie down beside each other to stare up at the moon and “stars” that turn out to be distant planes. A chilly fall breeze flows past and instinctively, we move toward each other. I still have the hoodie he lent me, rolled up in my duffle. I wish I was wearing it.
“Know anything about astronomy?” he asks.
“Nah, not really. About as much as anyone else I suppose. You?”
“No.” He slides his hand over until our pinkies touch, and all my focus goes straight to that tiny appendage.
We lapse into silence, lulled by the distant traffic sounds and the whirring of a fan on the roof. I don’t know how much time passes and I don’t care. I’m starting to get cold, and I don’t care about that, either. I wouldn’t want to be in any other place right now.
That thought has me sighing in contentment, and my eyelids begin to fall as I give into the heaviness of them. In my sleepy fog, I register West shifting a little, and I move closer to his warmth. I should probably put space between us, but everything feels so good, so right…
It’s something on my hip that has me groggily realizing I drifted off. I’m on my side now, curled completely into West as he cradles me, our legs intertwined. I tune even further in, recognizing the object on my hip is his hand.
That hand moves, stroking down and then back up, stopping just shy of touching my back. My breath catches as his fingers pause to press in, and down really low things start to warm.
West’s fingers move again, stroking down, back up, then stopping to press in, making me ache in a new way I’ve never experienced before. I draw in a breath, but it doesn’t ease a single thing. His hand moves again, down the back side of my thigh, up to my hip, and his fingers press into my butt.
It’s too much, and nervously, I wet my lips. “West?”
His hand stills. Gently he pushes me away before rolling to a sitting position. He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s late, and you’ve got to be up early for work.”
I nod, completely confused thathe’sthe one who pulled away.
“Come on.” He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
I let him pull me up, and together we fold the blanket. Butas I come toward him with my part of the blanket, he slides one arm around my back and holds me to him.
“Hug me,” he whispers. “Please?”
His words liquefy my insides, and I don’t hesitate as I slip both arms around his waist and place my cheek on his chest. With the blanket between us, I listen to his heartbeat as he pulls me in snugly, resting his head on top of mine. Gently, he rocks me, humming a song I don’t recognize, but the tune buzzes through me, and I sink further into the embrace.
We stand this way, gently swaying, as he hums the whole song. I haven’t cried in many years. The last time I did had been at Mommy’s funeral, so when wetness pools, I blink, surprised, realizing they’re tears of happiness.
Exactly what tears should be.
CHAPTER 17
I sleep deeply,unlike any sleep I’ve had in a very long time. Anne and I have to be at Madison Square Garden an hour earlier than usual, so I miss my morning run with West.
Anne and I work the whole morning alongside Ford, getting things set up, and around noon my cell buzzes.
West: Hey, Blue Eyes.
My pulse flutters.
Me: Hi.
West: Miss me?
I beam a smile.
Me: No.
West: Liar
I respond with a smiley emoji.
West: See you at soundcheck.
