Page 85 of In Somnis

The room goes quiet except for the soft patter of rain against the windows and the low thud of the pulse in my ears.

“How about you take tonight off? Start fresh tomorrow.”

Her lashes flutter. “But they have no one⁠—”

“No buts, Lennon.” I let a hint of steel slip into the words, intrigued when her pupils flare again. “I’ll speak to my aunt. Tell her you had a minor accident and need a night to recover. She’ll understand. I know someone who can be your stand-in for tonight.”

Lennon leans into my touch without seeming to realize it.

“By tomorrow, the abrasions will be less angry, and you can easily take the bandages off before your shift.” I let my thumb glide over the curve of her chin again. There’s a tiny beauty mark just beneath her bottom lip, another faint one under her left eye. Perfect little constellations I want to connect through kisses. “I’ll bring you home, you rest, and tomorrow you walk in fresh and blow everyone away.”

She swallows, the movement small under my fingers. “You’d… do that for me?”

“I’d do a lot more than that,” I murmur.

The washing machines let out an obnoxious buzz from the laundry room at the same time.

I freeze, my thumb pressed to her lower lip, which had apparently moved there on its own accord. The heat of her mouth is right there, so soft and tempting.

What would she do if I slipped my thumb inside? Would her lips part? Would she suck on me?

Fuck.

“Looks like your clothes are ready for the dryer.” Stepping back, I clear my throat. “You can stay here while they dry, and I sort the dinner shift… or I can drive you home and bring your stuff tomorrow morning.”

I don’t know which option I want more. Keeping her here feels like standing at the edge of a cliff I’m dying to jump off, and driving her home means I get to see where she lives, plus I can see her again tomorrow.

She hesitates, then gives a small, exhausted nod. “Rest sounds… good, actually. If you don’t mind driving me.”

Mind? I’d drive through a goddamn blizzard barefoot if she asked me to.

I grab her purse from the laundry room while she tugs on her boots, sleeves pushed up, looking adorable and hot at the same time.

The second she’s in the passenger seat, the air feels lighter. Driving with her knowing she’s safe right next to me feels easy. Almost enjoyable. For the first time in years, the road doesn’t feel like a threat.

The rain simmers down to only a drizzle as she guides me toward her street, and when I pull up outside the old brick building on Maple, my stomach drops.

Of course. Of-fucking-course she lives in the Wells’ building.

I kill the engine while she stares up at the windows.

“I’ll walk you up to your place,” I say, and before she can protest, I hurry out and round the car, opening the door for her. She takes my hand and lets me pull her up.

When we step inside the building, the faint smell hits me like a memory I’d rather burn than relive. The elevator creaks its way up, and when the doors slide open to the second floor, she steps out ahead of me, fumbling with her purse for her keys.

My gaze drifts down the hallway as I follow her. Of all the units in this town, of all the apartments she could have ended up in, she’s somehow right next to his.

She finally gets the key in the lock, pushes open her door, and walks straight in with her boots on, smiling over her shoulder at me. “Come inside for a minute? I’ve got something for you.”

My heart skips a beat as I step into her apartment, frowning at the faint wet prints she’s leaving on the bare floors. I move my gaze away from them, not wanting to fixate, and take a look around.

It’s empty. Completely, echoingly empty.

Glimpsing into the bedroom, I can see a mattress on the floor, two suitcases, and clothes spilled all over the place.

It seems my soulmate is a little messy.

I can live with that.