I gave up on trying to focus, relaxing. I probably just woke him, but I didn’t want to really get up yet either, so I just dove back into his chest once he'd turned. An arm slowly came down around me. A head turned into me, nuzzling my hair.
Returning to Ashley Waters wasn’t appealing, and even though I wasn’t going to go to classes, I didn’t want to go. Staying in bed, taking another long bath, or perhaps going with Nathan on the walk we meant to do, or anything else. I preferred anything else.
However, Luke mentioned getting to the bottom of whatever Hendricks was up to would help us in general. It may help the situation with Nathan and Kota to find a place where I could live where we wouldn’t have to worry about parents or anyone else seeing something they shouldn’t.
But something else was rousing me as well. Moments ago, when my head was pressed to the pillow, my nose took in all those scents from the bath bombs and also general Victor and his house that had its own scents, and it was all mixing together. Now with my head buried into someone cuddling me, I breathed in and out slowly, and all those scents remained, heavy, and distorting other smells.
But Victor’s was...weak. Weaker than it should be if this was him.
One scent crept into my senses, but the mix made it more difficult to isolate and figure out.
Until I realized it was soap. Spring soap.
I was suddenly very awake, my eyes flying open, but my head was pressed into a chest. I stiffened, my brain putting together information that didn’t exactly work.
Slowly, very slowly, I picked my head up, just enough to rest my chin against his chest, and fluttered my eyes to take a peek.
I almost didn’t recognize him. With his eyes closed, without his glasses, Mr. Blackbourne’s face was relaxed, missing all properties of the strict power I’d witnessed in him from the moment we’d met.
His lips held a flicker of the millimeter smile, but a tranquil version that only emphasized a happiness I rarely saw in him.
My heart went into overdrive. I lowered my head so he couldn’t see, but my eyes widened and I couldn’t do anything but stare at his chest. I was suddenly aware of everything. The white cotton shirt he was wearing was pressed to my skin. My legs were against his, feeling something like cotton pajama bottoms.
And I was suddenly terrified, questioning what I was wearing. Memories of stripping down into underwear to jump into the bath came to me. But then I remembered right before bed getting up and putting on shorts and a tank shirt to replace the bra.
Still...
My fingers twitched, pressed against his body near his rib cage.
As moments passed, and he didn’t move, and remained curled up next to me, I slowly, ever slowly, relaxed again. His perfection could intimidate me. It was my own ideals that made him seem not even human at times.
But he was Mr. Blackbourne. I had been with him through so much. And he knew things about me, had invited me to do things with him that I’d not even told the other guys about.
Maybe it’s good I didn’t wake up before realizing who he was. I’d have been way too overawed to approach him.
Moments passed, with my face pressed into him. His arm was around me, with a hand at my back, holding me to him. On occasion, he lowered his head, his nose pressing against my scalp. His breath warmed my skin.
An alarm went off somewhere nearby, playing gentle guitar notes and birds tweeting in harmony with a melody. It was soft at first, but slowly rose in volume to ease those sleeping to wake.
And ever slowly, Mr. Blackbourne kept near me but twisted around. I eased back, relaxing on my side, still facing him, watching with one eye barely open.
He reached for the phone he’d placed near the bed and picked it up. He slid a finger across the surface of it, placed the phone on his chest and relaxed back on the pillow. He sat up just a little to put an arm over my head above me, looking down at my face.
That millimeter smile crept into two millimeters. In a very soft tone, he spoke, “Good morning, Miss Sorenson.”
I luxuriated in the way he always said that lately. Like a whisper of desire flowing out from between his teeth.
I lazily fluttered my eyes open and smiled, breathing out, “Good morning, Mr. Blackbourne.”
His leg slowly glided over until his ankle covered mine, hooking them together. The action set off several nervous and happy explosions in my very core. I couldn’t look at his face, and my first instinct was to again bury my face somewhere, and his body was the closest. Even with him sitting up slightly, I rolled into him, my face meeting his ribs once more.
He slid down, going back to the position he’d been in, and also to put a hand at my back. The phone slipped from his chest to between us. We paused for a moment, all except his hand, which smoothed up and down along my spine. Slowly the pressure of his hand deepened, rousing instead of relaxing.
“I have a notion to call off the entire day,” Mr. Blackbourne said in the same quiet tone.
I murmured against his chest. “Tempting...”
He sighed, his breath pressing at my hair, the warmth radiating through me. “But I believe Luke mentioned you wanted a house.”
The way he said it made me go queasy and delighted. Somehow, it made me focus on the reality of it all. It wasn’t like we could just find a house and all move in together. Who was going to pay for it? I couldn’t just ask for a house and think we’d just get one. “It sounds horribly selfish. I don’t know how...”
The hand from my back drifted around and gently cupped at my jawline. My eyes had drifted to staring lazily at his body, but he nudged me until I was looking into those gray eyes.
“We just have a few things to settle first,” he said in same casual tone he’d whispered good morning. Like this wasn’t a bad idea and it was only a few errands before we could do this.
His confidence and comfortable demeanor somehow magically drew meto a place inside myself. I just knew he’d make it happen. I didn’t know how, but he’d do it.
“There was a bit of a mishap yesterday,” I said. “With Nathan...”
“I know,” he said. “But a lot has happened with him since then. And I do have some personal information you should know about.” He nudged me gently and I sat up. The blanket fell away. I looked around the room, partially wondering where the others had gone in the night. When did he get here to get into bed with me?
Mr. Blackbourne sat up, his knees lifting slightly as he turned on the bed. He put bare feet on the floor. The cotton pajama bottoms he wore were black and, in an odd way, reminded me of the fancy slacks Victor wore often. And then I caught a small label at his waist noting the brand: Ermenegildo Zegna.
Not a brand I’d heard of before, but the fancier name made me think it to be rather expensive.
He twisted slightly to look back at me. I realized where I was staring and looked away. I slid my feet up closer to my butt so I could wrap my arms around my knees. “What happened?” I asked.
His lips opened and then he paused slightly, an eyebrow going up and he blinked a few times. This was odd to see without his glasses. His handsome face was angled in such a way it reminded me of when I considered Luke could be a model. Yet Mr. Blackbourne seemed to have that same quality. “When your step mother was still in the hospital, we sent Marie over so she could see her.”
“Yes,” I said.
“While she was there, we overheard your mother telling Marie about your real mother.”
It was months ago. I raised an eyebrow. “Did she say anything we didn’t know?”
“We honestly considered the possibility, given that she tends to twist reality, that any information she said could be false.” He twisted more until his knee was up on the bed and he leaned toward me a little. “She mentioned your mother was actually a cousin of your father.”
“A cousin?” The information was a little shocking. However, I understood why he cautioned it with warning she could be lying. It was hard to feel anything when there was a strong chance it wasn’t true at all. It simply left me with questions.