Page 49 of Our Secret Moments

“What are you thinking, Cat?” I hear myself say.

She swallows, running her hands across my shoulders as she lowers herself onto the bed, sitting back down. My hands move on their own accord, lightly grazing her bare skin, the smoothness so foreign yet comforting. Her breath hitches. “I want to do more than just dance with you, too.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Alotmore than that.”

“I’d do anything you want me to. All you have to do is ask.”

“Then kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you,” I confirm, “But not like this.” I sigh, taking a step back and standing to my full height. “Come on. Let’s get you in bed.”

She sulks a little, but she listens to me, scooting back slightly until she pulls back the covers. I lean over her, moving around her pillows until she’s comfortable and I wrap the covers over her, tucking her in tight and she lets me. As I’m about to pull away, she clasps her hand around my wrist.

“Stay with me. Please,” she whispers. Her eyes soften, her tone pleading and vulnerable. It’s the very last thing I should do, but I can feel my skin itching to stay with her longer.

“Okay,” I sigh, rubbing my hand across my face. “Okay,” I say again, kicking off my shoes. As she snuggles under the covers, I lay beside her on top of the covers, facing the ceiling.

“You’re too good to me sometimes, Connie,” she murmurs.

I don’t turn to her. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Still, when her hand reaches out and finds mine, I don’t let go. She threads her fingers between mine, and I squeeze her hand softly. I stroke my thumb against the soft skin beneath me as she sighs, the sound rushing straight to my brain, making me want to curl up in a ball and settle right into her.

“That’s all I want to do, Cat. All the time,” I whisper,

I turn to her, ready to see her reaction. Her eyes are closed, her long lashes resting against her cheeks as she breathes heavily. I let out a sigh of relief, partly grateful knowing that she didn’t hear me.

Watching her sleep tugs a heavy, yet satisfying feeling over my whole body like a blanket, a safe and unknown emotion resting on my chest, knowing that she’s at peace. Her perfect lips are curved into a slight smile, a tiny tug on her eyebrows and I hope she’s having a happy dream.

When sleep starts to pull me under too, I don’t let go of her hand.

NINETEEN

CAT

“YOU’RE DOING MY BROTHER?”

I hadthe best night's sleep of my life.

I always crash straight away after drinking, completely abandoning my hair care routine, but last night was different. I knew it was a bad idea drinking just to avoid reality, but my feelings for Connor had run deeper than I thought they could.

There was a new sense of comfort, of calm, that washed right over me when I was in his arms, meaning I didn’t need to come up with any pathetic scenarios or trick myself into going to sleep. Sleep came to me naturally and it was because of him.

At some point in the night, I ended up curled over him, straddling him like a koala before eventually finding myself on my back again, but then he rolled on top ofme.His weight wasn’t something that I feared becoming too consuming. It felt welcoming. And for the first time in a while, I hadhoped.I had hoped that it would happen again.

Not right now, though, as the sun shines through the blinds of my windows and my head throbs from the lack of medication after last night’s party. Connor’s head is resting in the middle of my chest, right on my boob as his hand slings around my waist, pulling us a lot closer than we need to be.

He looks so beautiful it hurts.

His hair is a mess, the brown shining a sort-of gold colour in the light, falling crazily across his forehead and on my tank top. There are the tiniest, faintest freckles that scatter along his nose that make butterflies swarm around my stomach. His cheeks have remained in a permanent soft smile that I’ve wanted to kiss off him since I woke up.

“Connie,” I murmur, gently stroking my hand over his forehead, brushing his hair back. He stirs slightly, not opening his eyes. “You need to get up.”

“No,” he groans, nestling his face further between my boobs. I watch the smirk form across his face because he knows exactly what he’s doing as my nipples pebble at the attention. “Too comfy.”

“Sorry to interrupt whatever you have going on with my boobs, but I’m being serious,” I say, trying to sit up. I eventually manage to sit against my headboard, but he still rests his head in my lap, looking up at me with a dreamy, puppy-like look.

That feeling that I got in my chest when I watched him sleep just grew tenfold.

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