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Stella
The bedside clock told me it was 2 AM when I woke. I lay there for a while, but eventually my bladder started protesting and I crawled out of bed to use the bathroom. Harley didn’t stir. He just rolled onto his back and muttered nonsense in his sleep.
It still felt strange sharing a bed, but I enjoyed the way Harley made me feel safe and protected. Like I mattered. If not for all the drama going on right now, this would have been the happiest time of my life. I’d met a guy who seemed to give a shit about me, the chemistry between us was off the charts, and I even had a girlfriend in Tessa. Life should have been good, except it wasn’t. Not at all. While I was with Harley, I could pretend things were fine. But the reality was that things were definitely not fine.
Tomorrow, I planned to restart my classes. I couldn’t hide in this apartment forever. The minute I reappeared on campus, people would treat me like a fascinating exhibit at the zoo. They’d likely talk about me to my face, post shit about me online, and worse. None of this would matter if I had a thick skin, but I didn’t. My skin was so thin it tore at the slightest thing. While I pretended to be tough, I wasn’t. Not in the slightest.
I crawled back under the covers and lay there for a while, but my brain refused to switch off. It was like an endless movie reel showing me the highlights of the last few months, on repeat. By the time 3 AM came and went, I decided it was hopeless. Maybe a hot drink would help.
When I was small, Carmel, the nanny I’d had at the time, gave me hot milk when I woke up crying in the night. It probably made no difference, but it was comforting.
Since lying here wide awake was doing my head in, I decided to give it a try. I crept out of bed again and pulled on one of Harley’s hoodies over my cami top and shorts. Harley didn’t stir; he slept like the dead.
The living room was dark but there was enough ambient light from the tall window overlooking the quad for me to see where everything was. I opened the refrigerator and poured some milk into a mug. Two minutes in the microwave and it was hot.
If this didn’t work, I’d dig out my kindle and try reading for a bit. Anything was better than stewing in my toxic thoughts. A door clicked open and I looked up.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” Even in the muted light from the window, I could tell Brax looked like shit.
“No,” he replied, his voice gravelly like he’d spent the last few hours shouting or screaming. Maybe he had. I could hardly blame him if he needed to vent. It would be justified.
He sat down on the sofa, far enough away that there was zero chance of us accidentally touching. For a while, we sat in silence. Me sipping my milk and trying not to notice the way the light caught the lines of his abs, and him staring into space, ignoring me.
Eventually, I had to say something. The silence between us was so oppressive it felt like I was being buried alive under thousands of tons of rock.
“I’m sorry.”
He turned toward me. “Sorry for what? For what your father did? For the death of my father? Or because we’re caught up in this shit storm and none of it is our fault?”
“I’m just…sorry you’re hurting.” And I was. I’d give anything to take his pain away. God knew I understood how he was feeling. Pain and I were well acquainted.
“Thank you,” he said in a low voice.
I really wanted to touch him but I wasn’t sure if any overture from me would be welcomed. He probably couldn’t stand the sight of me. Not that I’d blame him. But as I stood, intending to head back to bed, he reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Stella, it isn’t your fault and I don’t blame you.”
“It’s OK,” I replied. “I understand. I would hate me too if I were you. You don’t have to pretend otherwise. I really shouldn’t be here, in your apartment, but Harley kind of forced the issue.”
He smiled wryly. “Yeah, he can be an immovable object when he wants to be. But really, it’s OK, I just need a bit of time. This…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Has brought it all back. And Mom is on my case a lot about…everything.”
I nodded. “It’s fine, I get it. But I meant it, as soon as I can, I’ll be out of your hair. Then you can pretend I don’t exist.”
His fingers tightened on my arm, and I winced, knowing I’d end up with bruises. He loosened his grip slightly but didn’t let go.
“But I can’t pretend you don’t exist, can I, Stella?”
Sparks crackled between us. The attraction I felt for Brax was impossibly toxic. I had one lover fast asleep in bed, oblivious, and here I was, wishing his friend would kiss me. Fuck my life.
“Maybe you should,” I whispered, uncomfortably aware there were not enough layers of clothing between us to hide the fact I was turned on. And judging by the bulge in his loose sweatpants, I wasn’t the only one.
“Maybe I don’t want to,” he threw back at me, his blue eyes gleaming like ice crystals. My skin burned under his fingers and the throbbing between my thighs increased. This was madness. I should have walked away the moment he appeared. I really needed to leave right now, but I was powerless to move, not least because he seemed reluctant to let me go.
Whatever was between us was doomed. There could be no happy ending. I was sleeping with Harley for one thing, and the other?
Oh yes. My father had killed his father. Not directly, but a few degrees of separation didn’t matter. The end result was the same.
“Brax, let me go,” I pleaded softly, not wanting to wake Harley up.
