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“Alright, I think that’s all of them.”
“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder and see him smile softly—happily. “Well, about time. I’m practically a raisin.” I laugh.
He stands from the chair he put behind the tub and stretches his arms above his head. “Alright, pretty girl, let’s get you out.” He holds out a fluffy white towel as I push out of the water. He quickly wraps it around me so he can offer me support as I try to climb out of the tub without putting too much weight on my ankle.
Once I’m out, he tugs me close, clutching the front of the towel. I tilt my face up toward him and he lowers his until I can feel his breath feather across my nose. I get lightheaded when his crystal blue eyes grow hooded and hungry, dropping to my lips. He wets his bottom lip and I find myself leaning closer, drawn to the steady rhythm of his breath as my heart beats wildly.
A desperate pit hollows in my stomach as my skin tingles with the need to close the distance. As if he can read my thoughts, he laughs softly and stands up straight, a knowing taunt in his eyes. He lets go of my towel and I clutch it closed.
While I’m still trying to catch my breath, he cups the back of my head and kisses my forehead. Light but searing. It lasts less than the length of a heartbeat, but my skin burns when he pulls away.
“Prettiest raisin I ever did see.” He sighs with a soft smile before walking out, leaving me hot and reeling.
If what’s between us is supposed to stay on the island . . . I am so fucked.
I lie in bed, staring at the tall ceilings and tracing the length of the rafters. My skin is crawling. Any budding heat left by Lochlan’s touch has dissipated until a cold and chilling feeling is all that surrounds me. Even though the sheets have been changed, I can’t shake the foreboding sense that I’m going to soon feel the slick wetness of blood coating my skin.
I spent longer than necessary getting ready for bed, going through every step of my skin care routine with tedium and tying and retying a silk scarf around my hair instead of doing the logical thing of quickly slipping on my bonnet. I kept glancing at the sterile white sheets on the bed and imagining them drenched in ruddy swatches of blood. I’ve been dreading crawling back in there and now that I’m here, I feel haunted by memories of terror and confusion.
Last night, I fell asleep on the couch and Lochlan must have carried me to bed at some point. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when I woke up in unfamiliar surroundings again and threw the covers off me, my skin breaking out in a cold sweat immediately.
I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing, inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling slowly out my mouth. But instead of bringing me closer to sleep, it only focuses my attention to the beat of my heart, and soon my mind is filled with images of blood fiercely spurting out of a slit throat with each contraction of the great muscle.
Holding back a scream, I jump out of bed and race out of the room. I stop in the living room, gulping down air like I’ve just come up from being held underwater. I bury the heels of my palms into my eyes and try to will the gruesome images to stop.
Next thing I know, I am cracking open Lochlan’s bedroom door. He’s sitting up in bed, watching something on his laptop. His face is lit up by the glow of the screen and when he notices me, he slams it shut and pulls out his headphones.
“Stella Mae,” he says with a forced singsong tone that is automatically suspicious.
I give him a side eye and try to match his lighter tone. “Were you watching porn? I can come back—”
“No, no. Come in. What’s up?” He talks fast, and I realize he’s frazzled. It’s kind of adorable. Whether he was watching porn or not.
“I can’t sleep.” I close the door behind me. “In my bed. I keep picturing . . .” I scrunch my face.
“Come here,” he says without needing any further explanation and throws open the covers on the empty side of the bed.
“Thanks.” I crawl in, feeling inexplicably shy. I haven’t asked to sleep in someone’s bed since I was a kid. It’s usually mine people are crashing in, finding safety in.
He sets his computer on the nightstand then rolls over toward me. Without exchanging a single word, I curl onto my side and let him wrap his arms around me. He tucks me into his bare chest, his boxers brushing against my thigh. His body heat warms my cold bones and chases away the ghosts clinging to them.
I close my eyes and this time, I focus on the rhythm of Lochlan’s breathing. The soft pounding of his heart and steady expansion of his chest with each breath is the sweetest lullaby, putting me into a peaceful sleep within minutes.
The first thing I hear before I open my eyes in the morning is the sound of the waves.
The next is Lochlan’s snoring.
I roll over, no longer wrapped tightly into his chest the way I fell asleep, and see him sitting up in bed. His laptop is on his thighs and one of his headphones has fallen out. I glance at his unlocked screen and see YouTube’s “are you still watching” message. Looking behind it, I read the title of the video he was watching and my heart flutters:
How I Help My Girlfriend Retwist Her Locs—Palm Roll Method.
1. Play “Feel for Me” by Vance Foy
2. Continue playing Feel for Me by Vance Foy
Chapter 20
Something Stupid
