Page 73 of Wish I Might
It was after midnight when she let herself back in the house.It was cooler than it had been, and the air was stirring.For a wild, hopeful moment she thought the AC had kicked back on, then noticed the fan in the corner, quietly humming as it oscillated back and forth over the mattress that sat in the center of the room.
The couch had been moved back against the wall to make room, and the pillows she’d left upstairs had been placed at one end.Her duvet lay folded neatly at the other end, and the top sheet was turned down, like they did in fancy hotels.The only thing missing was a little mint on the pillow.
She locked the door, dropped her purse next to the makeshift bed, and forced herself to walk on to the stairs when all she wanted to do was fall face first into a pillow and not move until morning.
God, she was tired.She felt almost bruised by the onslaught of emotions she’d had to delicately navigate.Chloe’s fear and despair, combined with whatever Gwen was feeling.She’d hidden it well, but as they’d talked out a plan for Chloe over Chinese food—the necessary discussion with Jesse and Knox, the logistics of scheduling and then obtaining the abortion—Gwen’s confusion and distress had been clear to Bailey, and had added to the emotional weight she carried.
She glanced at Nash’s bedroom door as she passed, then stuttered to a halt.It was ajar, the light off.From where she stood she could just see the foot of the bed, the shadow of his feet, and had taken two steps forward, one hand lifted to push the door open, before she stopped herself.
She wanted almost desperately to see him, needed almost fiercely to touch him.To wrap her arms around him and let go of the tension and worry and stress of the last few hours, of the next few days.To just let his strong arms take the weight of it all so she could breathe again.
It would be so easy, she thought, her hand on the door.One little push.He’d wake, say her name in his sleepy, husky voice, and turn on the light.He wouldn’t have to ask if something was wrong—he’d see it on her face—and the comfort she sought, he would give.Freely and without expectation, he’d hold her and soothe her, lifting the weight she carried without question.
And that’s why she couldn’t take it.
She dropped her hand, her fingertips brushing down the smooth wood of the door, then turned away.Her footfalls were heavy on the stairs as she climbed them to change for bed.She brushed her teeth like a robot, washed her face and took the contacts out of her gritty eyes on autopilot.
By the time she made it back downstairs, fatigue was dragging at her.She pulled her phone out of her purse to turn off her alarm—tomorrow was her day off—and noted the battery was in the red zone.Which meant she’d have to go back upstairs for her charger.
She started to turn, to drag herself back up the stairs, then she stopped.There, on the end table where the single light he’d left on for her cast its welcoming glow, was the wireless charging pad that lived on her bedroom nightstand.He’d brought it down, she realized, along with the pillows and the duvet and the sheet, and the simple thoughtfulness of the gesture had her eyes going blurry with tears.She blinked through them to set the phone on the charger, then fumbled with clumsy fingers to turn off the light.
In the dark, she fell into bed, and into sleep.
* * * *
She woke the next morning with the sun in her face, the scent of coffee in her nose, and an urgent need for the bathroom.
Shoving the sheet aside—at some point in the night she’d actually gotten chilly—she crawled off the mattress and pushed to her feet.Still mostly asleep, she stumbled down the hall to the bathroom and pushed open the door just as Nash whipped back the shower curtain.
“Shit!”She slammed her eyes shut and backed up so fast she bumped into the door frame, then the door, then finally the wall across from the bathroom.“Shit!Ow!”
“You okay?”Nash asked, clearly amused.
“No, I hit my funny bone.”Rubbing at the stinging, tingling pain, she kept her eyes firmly shut.“Sorry.I didn’t know you were in the shower.”
“You would have, if you’d knocked.”
“I was still half asleep,” she protested.
“Okay.Why are your eyes closed?”
“Because you’re naked.”Gloriously, beautifully naked.
There was a rustle, then the sound of the medicine cabinet opening and closing.“What, you’re shy now?”
She was starting to get annoyed.“Are you being an ass on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”
He chuckled, a rich rumble that made her skin pop out in gooseflesh.“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.I almost never see you flustered.It’s pretty cute.”
“Blow me,” she suggested tartly.
“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”
Eyes still closed, she stuck her tongue out at him.
He chuckled again.“If you need the bathroom, I’ll be out in a minute.”
She risked popping one eye open.He stood at the sink, a towel draped loose and low over his hips while he squeezed toothpaste on his toothbrush.“I can use the one upstairs.”
