ALAYNAI wake up the next morning with my head feeling slightly better. My room isn’t spinning anymore, but my body still feels shaky. I shift my head to the other side and find Brandon lying next to me. His eyes are shut and his face serene. My head is lying softly on his arm.
Oh my!I cover my mouth in shock. How did we end up like this? Why is he in my bed? Did we sleep together?
I touch my head, trying to remember if we did anything other than talk last night. I was picking up the glass, then he came to the kitchen. Damn. I probably passed out. I still have a fever; I can feel it, but my temperature is a bit lower. I let out a sigh of relief. Nothing happened. We only slept. But why did he stay here?
I shake his shoulder and whisper. “Brandon? Brandon...”
He groans, and his eyes open slowly. “Alayna.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, but I can’t seem to move my body. I may be shameless, but screw being shameless. I like being next to him. I didn’t ask him to sleep next to me either.
“How do you feel?” He answers my question with another question. His mouth is only a few inches away from mine.
“Better, but what happened?” I ask innocently. I know exactly what happened. I just want to know why he’s here.
“You passed out.”
“And?”
“And after you passed out, I took care of you,” he says honestly.
My cheeks burn. “Why would you take care of me?”
A smile is evident on his lips, but he doesn’t show it. “Because friends take care of each other.”
I blink. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Friends don’t sleep together. Your bed is bigger than mine.” Okay. Maybe this is really not a good idea. I push myself up and get my feet on the floor.
He chuckles. “If you’re wondering why I stayed and slept next to you, Alayna, you can ask me. I’ll be more willing to answer you.”
My cheeks flare up again. I’m sure I’m even redder this time. I hide my face.
He knows. He knows I still can’t get over him, and he’s trying to use that against me. Brandon has become bolder, manlier, and sexier, but it’s annoying. The pain in my heart because of him is still present. He hurt me. It’s not the time to play around, either. We promised to be casual about our relationship—I mean working“I’m not going to ask you anything.” I don’t want to look or feel vulnerable in front of him again.
“You’re so obstinate, aren’t you? That isn’t how you should thank your savior,” he says, and I can’t help but look at him. He sits up, the sheets clinging to his body fall, revealing his hard pectoral muscles under the thin fabric of his white shirt. He seems to be wearing black boxer briefs, too, with the brand logo on the band. Well, he looks like he could be a model for Dolce and Gabbana.
“Thank you, but I’m not in need of saving. I can handle myself.”
“Is that right?” He laughs again. “Then am I supposed to just let you spend the night on the kitchen floor?” He steps out of the bed, and damn right, he’s only wearing briefs. I can never get over his firm, round buttocks.
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. I don’t understand what’s going on, but he’s enjoying this. What’s with his sudden change of behavior? I don’t remember him being so playful like this. He is confident, controlled, and unruffled now—the opposite to last year when he was always insecure, reserved, and uptight. It just makes him sexier.
I swallow, trying to coat my dry throat.
But as if it weren’t enough that he’s flaunting his impeccable physique, he turns around and walks to me. Still standing, he pours water in the glass on the bedside table and picks up a medicine capsule I didn’t notice earlier. I look away. I’m sure I was close to getting a glimpse of the bulge in his undergarment, but I’m also not going to ignore those defined legs.
“Drink.” His tone remains commanding. “For your fever.”
There’s no point in arguing, so I obey. I take the medicine first and gulp the water straight. He takes the glass back to the table and touches my forehead.
“You’re still a little warm. You can’t work today,” he says softly.
“B-But...”
“And before you insist that you will, I’m not going to eat anything you make, so you’re just going to waste energy.”
My mouth parts open as I attempt to protest.
I watch him stroll around my room again as if it’s his. He opens my closet and tugs out my pink towel, wrapping it around his waist. I mentally roll my eyes. What’s the point of covering it now?
But my throat seems to need more fluid as I look at him in this state. I instantly feel jealous of my belongings.
I wish I were the towel.He flashes a satisfied smirk. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“What? Brandon, you have your own bathroom right upstairs!”
“Why bother when you have one here? This is still my house.”
“Then what’s the point of asking?” He even went through my things.
“Stay there. We’re not done talking,” he instructs and finally disappears into the bathroom.
What are we supposed to talk about?
I move out of the bed and open the bathroom door again. My bathroom has its separate lavatory, and the shower and jacuzzi are on the other side, caged in a tinted glass wall, so I can still go in. I hear the water rushing in the shower. I see him in silhouette but immediately chastise myself for looking that way.
What the hell is he doing anyway? What are weI shake my head incredulously, grab my toothbrush, and watch my reflection as I brush my teeth.
“What are you wearing after?” I ask out loud, though it’s supposed to be only in my head. I spit the toothpaste foam out and continue brushing.
“I had something brought down from my room,” he answers casually, his voice mixing with the noise of the shower.
“Brandon, what are you doing?” Why would you do this? What are you trying to prove?“Taking a shower, obviously.”
“I mean, why? Why here? What are you trying to do?” Honestly, his sudden odd behavior alarms me.
“No particular reason, to be honest. I just like teasing you,” he says frankly and laughs. “Friends do that, right? I’m sure you’ve taken a bath in a friend’s bathroom before.”
“Yes, but this is different! This is inappropriate. You’re a man taking a shower in a woman’s bathroom, and that woman happens to be your ex,” I say frankly. It’s pointless to sugarcoat this.
“There’s only a thin wall between us, you came over here, and you’re saying I’m inappropriate? You like this too, don’t you?”
WowHe has become impossible. Now that I think about it, this is the longest encounter I’ve had with him. Not when he came back because he still refused to see me then. Yesterday was brief too. We only ate breakfast, but he’d already shown a little of his changes—like asking which breakfast I liked and ordering the same, or when he served me wine and spoiled me with the dessert of my choice. I loved mousse brownies or cookies. He insisted that he didn’t want them before, but this time he ate a piece of each. I don’t think I know this new Brandon.
I groan inwardly. “Fine. I’m out.” I gargle a handful of water to finish and step out of the bathroom.
When he returns from the bathroom, he’s dressed in a black shirt and sweatpants. He looks even more mouth-watering now, and I smell my shampoo on him. He’s really provoking me. What is his game? He’s wiping his wet hair with my towel.
“What are you doing, Brandon?”
“That question again, and my answer is only going to be the same.”
“You’re confusing me,” I admit. “Why are you still here?”
He paces toward me and perches on the chair of the computer table. “I wouldn’t be using your bathroom if I don’t plan to stay, don’t you think?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, you probably need something from me. Just tell me what it is.”
His face turns serious, but his eyes are soft. “Alayna, you’re still having nightmares.” It’s not a question. His statement takes me aback.
I know I am, and it has become worse. Oliver witnessed plenty of those episodes, and Cassius said it could be a sign of a nocturnal panic attack. It only occurs when I’m asleep. I’m perfectly normal during the daytime, I think“If you’re worried about that—”
“I’m damn worried,” he says firmly.
I bite my lower lip. “Did you stay with me because of that?”
“Besides your hundred-degree temperature, yes“I’m sorry if you had to witness it.” I tear my gaze away. “Was it terrible?”
“It’s alarming.” He moves the chair close to me. “This is going on for too long, Alayna. What’s bothering you?”
“I’m fine, Brandon. It doesn’t occur in daylight, so you can go now.”
“Not while you’re still ill.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Let me check your temperature.” He pulls out my drawer and takes the thermometer. He points it at my forehead, and it beeps. “It’s still 99.1.”
“What, you’re playing doctor now too?”
“This simple medical assessment doesn’t require a degree,” he points. “How do you feel? Are you hungry? I’ll have Casey prepare something for you, though I asked her not to disturb you.”
“I’m better now. It’s okay.”
The sound of his voice has been so comforting. Honestly, I don’t want him to go, but this will only feed my desire. I’ll get used to having him next to me again, knowing I am still going to end up hurt.
“Are you saying you’ll stay here all day?”
“Hmm. You still need more rest. Now, I can’t leave someone who’s crying in her sleep, can I?” He smiles kindly.
Damn, yes! Fine. I like the attention he’s giving me.
“Well, Oliver stayed here too, whenever I was... you know.”
“Then just think this is like what Oliver would do if he were here,” he suggests.
“He doesn’t sleep in the bed, though,” I say. I want to know what he’ll say next about that. I must admit that I’m enjoying this too. But God! The mention of Oliver still has me unsettled. I’m not even sure if I have the right to be enjoying myself at a time like this. I feel the guilt rush through me.
If Oliver were here, he would tell me interesting stories about him, his experiences. He would ask me to help him invent new recipes, even in the middle of the night. We would eat to our heart’s content. Sometimes he would suggest we watch movies with Casey. I miss him so much.
“Brandon, how’s the investigation going for Ollie? Did you find a lead? Did you find out who’s behind this?”
“Yes, we’re getting a lead,” he answers simply. “About the text message Pauline received, we have a suspect.”
“Who it might be?”
“We’re still not sure.”
“But you know this person.” Pauline was terrified, and she was crumbling when she mentioned some “him,” and Brandon seemed to understand who she was talking about last night. Again, Brandon refuses to give me more information.
“Alayna, we will find Oliver,” he says reassuringly. “He’ll come back to us.”
“But how? You aren’t even asking for the police or the FBI.”
“We have, um, some aid“This is just normal fatigue, Brandon. Not a big deal.”
“Cassius and I are doing everything we can.” His words may be confident and controlled, but in his eyes, there’s a vulnerability and apprehension.
I press my fingers to my own eyes. “I just miss him, and I’m worried about him. I keep thinking about the worst things that might happen. Is this bad?”
I have thoughts of him getting beat up, or not being able to sleep or eat, or being helpless. He is such a good man that he doesn’t deserve any of this.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I think about that too, but I have...” He pauses “...men Brandon quells my dread when he takes my hand. “Now, you need to get better first. I won’t be leaving you alone today until I know you’re fine. Do you still mind?”
I shake my head.
“Good, because, Alayna, you were shaking against me last night.” His tone is firm again, and a muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I was just cold!” I exclaim. I did feel some kind of warmth last night; I’m only remembering it now.
“Good, that’s settled then. Consider this as a hospitality from your host.” He stands again and walks to the door. “Now, don’t get too excited, or you’ll hurt yourself again. I’m getting something we can eat.”
I smile a little, unsure of what to say. There’s also no point in resisting this now when I know he’d only insist. Nonetheless, I like it. If this is the only way I can still be connected to him, so be it. Being friends