Her blonde hair is strewn about the pillow in tangled waves, her face soft with sleep. Rosebud lips parted, the covers are pushed down to her waist and she’s wearing a skimpy pale blue tank top with no bra, her nipples clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of her top.
The thin top, her hard nipples beneath, I’m captivated, salivating really. It’s cold as hell in the room and I go to her, grabbing the edge of the comforter so I can pull it up over her body. My knuckles brush against her chest, I did it on purpose, I’m not going to lie and her eyes fly open at first contact. She sits up so fast she nearly nails me in the jaw with her forehead, and I take a quick step back, saving myself from massive injury.
“What are you doing?” She pulls the covers up to her chin, covering up all that pretty exposed skin and disappointment crashes into me. “Sneaking around my room?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Lame as hell answer, but it’s all I got.
“What time is it?” She leans over and grabs her phone off the bedside table, checking the clock with an aggravated groan. “Why would you think something’s wrong with me this early in the morning?”
“You locked yourself up in here over twelve hours ago. For all I know you could be unconscious. How was I supposed to know?” I feel defensive. Her reaction makes me defensive, and I don’t know how we skipped backwards and ended up hostile towards each other again. I fucking hate it.
I want the new Fable back. I want the new us back.
There was never any us you asshole.
Clamping my lips shut, I sit on the edge of the bed, sad when she skitters away from me as if she needs the space. I’ve had this idea lurking in the back of my mind since about three this morning and I hope it’s going to heal what damage has been done to our tentative relationship. If she doesn’t agree…
I don’t know what else to do.
“Well, I’m fine,” she retorts, setting her phone down, her gaze locked on her bent knees in front of her. “You can leave now.”
“I was hoping I could ask you to go with me somewhere.”
She flicks her head in an I-don’t-give-a-shit way. “I don’t know if we should hang out together anymore, Drew. I know we’re supposed to be pretending we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but this week is almost over and I don’t think we need to make a big show of it.”
Fuck, what did I do? I have no idea, and she’s not going to tell me unless I drag it out of her. “I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery. I need to visit my sister’s grave.”
Her gaze finally meets mine, those green eyes full of pain and sympathy. All for me. “I don’t know if I should…”
“I want you there.” Reaching out, I grab her hand and cradle it in mine. Her fingers are ice cold and she tries to withdraw, but I tighten my grip. “I need you there, Fable.”
“I thought Adele had something planned for family only.” She lifts her chin, looking defiant. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
So beautiful I’m tempted to haul her into my arms and never let her go. But I don’t.
“I’m not going with them.” It would be my every nightmare come to life. Adele a weeping, emotional wreck and I’ll be expected to stand by her, full of sympathy and offering her hugs.
I can hardly stand the thought of her touching me, let alone actually letting her.
Fable’s quiet. I can tell she’s considering my request, which fills me with relief. I don’t want to go alone, I don’t want to go with my parents either, but I need to go and pay my respects to my baby sister. The idea of going alone fills me with such overwhelming sadness, I know I’d fall apart the second I parked my truck in the cemetery parking lot. I wouldn’t be able to go in there and I need to.
Having Fable by my side will give me the strength I freaking need to visit my sister’s grave. Beg her forgiveness at her gravestone for not taking care of her and hope like hell when I tell Fable the truth, she won’t hate me for what I’ve done.
And maybe, just maybe, her acceptance will help ease the hatred I feel for myself.
“I’ll go with you,” she says, her voice low, her gaze downcast once more. “When do you want to leave?”
“I need to take a shower. I’m sure you do too.” When she nods, I continue. “A couple of hours then? By ten?”
“That sounds good.” She nods again and slowly releases her hold on my hand, her fingers drifting along the length of mine. Chills steal over me at the subtle contact and when I look at her, she’s watching me, her lips parted, her eyes wide. So fucking beautiful in her tousled, still sleepy state, it hurts to stare at her for too long.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For saying you’ll come with me.”
“Thank you for trusting me enough to ask.” She licks her lips, leaving a damp sheen on them and I want to kiss her so bad, I ache with it. “That’s why I was so mad, Drew. After what happened yesterday, what you and Adele accused me of, it felt like you didn’t trust me. And all I’ve ever been is honest with you.”
She’s right. I know this. I overreacted. Adele pushed all my buttons and I fell for her tricks. So stupid.