Page 57 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

“I don’t know what a cream puff is, but I’m going to guess I’m definitely not that.” I give her my hand to help her step out of the bathtub. She takes it.

I stand there for a second, not letting go of her hand. She looks so soft and vulnerable right now. God, it’s killing me. Snap out of it. Not like this, I tell myself again. I let go of her hand and walk out of the bathroom. “Are you hungry? I couldn’t find much in your refrigerator, but I can make us some pasta or something.”

When I turn around, she’s followed me out. “I’m just really tired. Is it okay if I just sleep?” She’s made her way over to the bed and is crawling under the sheets. I follow her and help her pull the blankets up around her. She looks up at me, covered up to her chin with blankets, looking so small in her big king-size bed. “Mase, you really don’t have to stay here. I’m fine. I feel fine.”

“I’m going to stay. I’ll wake you up in a few hours to check on you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers already half asleep. I sit on the side of the bed, watching her sleep for a few minutes. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’ve definitely never felt it before. It’s not just lust. I mean it is that. God, I want to be with her. But, it’s not just that. I want to hold her, protect her. I want to talk to her, laugh with her. I just want to be near her.

I finally break myself away from her in the bedroom. I fix myself something to eat and watch SportsCenter. By the time I’m done, it’s been two hours. I need to wake her up and check on her. I brush the mass of wet strawberry-blonde curls away from her face. She’s sound asleep. I shake her gently. “Millie,” I say softly.

She opens her eyes, sleepy and confused. “Hey,” she manages to say as she tries to sit up. I pull her up gently. As I do, the blanket falls down, and I notice the robe has slipped down over her shoulders. I can’t stop staring. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful, and seeing what I’m seeing, I just want to rip the rest of the robe off and see what else it’s hiding. Not like this, I repeat over and over in my mind while I quickly adjust her robe back onto her shoulders. She’s so out of it, she doesn’t even register what happened.

“Hey, Mills, I need to turn on the light to look at your eyes and make sure you’re still focusing okay.”

“Okay,” she say sweetly. She’s slowly starting to remember what’s going on.

I take her through a short battery of concussion tests and ask her a few questions. She nails them all. “Good job,” I say. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” she says looking up at me. “Are you staying here all night? Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t even stretch out on that couch fully. There’s no way you’ll be able to.”

“Believe me, I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places,” I say.

“Mason, just sleep in the bed. There’s plenty of room. It’s not a big deal.” She flips over her pillow and snuggles back into the blankets.

I sit there again for a few minutes looking at her, and then take off my shoes, and my shirt, and lay down on the bed. I still have a T-shirt and pants on, and I’m above the blankets. I intend to stay that way. Not like this, not like this, I repeat in my head as I fall asleep.

I wake up with a jolt. It takes me a second to remember where I am. I look at my phone. It says I’ve been asleep for four hours. I find that hard to believe. I never sleep more than an hour or so at a time. I look over, and Millie is still sleeping peacefully. I roll over to face her and gently touch her shoulder.

“Millie, you need to wake up again.”

She opens her eyes, this time more aware of where she is. “Hey, do we have to do the tests again?”

“Probably not. You seem to know what’s going on now. How do you feel?”

“Better. My head doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

“That’s good. Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?”

“I don’t think so, just kind of tired still.”

“Okay, you sound good. You can go back to sleep. You should be okay until morning, babe.” I try to catch myself before it comes out, but it’s too late.

Even in the darkness, I can see her eyes widening. “Babe?” she says softly.

“Millie. . .” I scoot a little closer to her, and put my hand on her hip. “Millie, come on, you have to know how I feel about you.”

I want to look away from her, but I can’t. I have the feeling with that one word, I’ve just blown the operation I’ve been working on for weeks.

She puts her hand lightly on my chest. “Mason, we work together. We live in different cities. We have crazy schedules. I have feelings for you, too, but it could never work.”

“And, you have a boyfriend,” I say turning over on my back, looking at the ceiling. I’m not sure why I brought him up.

“Yeah,” she says as if she’d forgotten that part. “Either way, Mason, you and I could never work.”

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