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Anna doesn’t come to bed when Gray leaves. I’m not surprised. I fucked up. I knew I was doing it every step of the way. It was as if the rational Drew was locked up tight within my mind while asshole Drew took over.
Lying in bed, I stare up at the ceiling and curse myself for being an asshole. Again.
It’s almost pitch-black in here because Anna insists on closing both the blinds and the curtains. Apparently, she likes to sleep in darkness so complete it’s like we’ve crawled up into a womb.
Which is fine by me at the moment. A sensory oblivion would be nice.
A slab of gray moonlight cuts across the bed as Anna opens the door. She must have killer night vision or be part vampire because she doesn’t turn on a light as she pads through the room and into the bathroom.
My heart pounds loud in my ears as I listen to the running water of the sink and wait for her to return. Coach’s suggestion swirls around in my head. Therapy? I’m only injured, not depressed. Yeah, I tend to overanalyze things, but I didn’t exactly love going to counseling before.
“Tell me about your parents, Drew.”
“They’re dead, Doc. What else is there to know?”
“How does that make you feel?”
Like I’m free-falling from the darkness of space.
How do I feel now?
Like I’m free-falling from the darkness of space.
Without my permission, my fingers end up clutching the sheets. I force myself to let go and calm the hell down. It’s just a fricking broken leg. It will heal. I’ll get back in form.
On the next breath I’m on the field, the scent of grass, chalk, and my own sweat filling my nose. I hear the defensive end’s footsteps, feel them reverberating through the ground as he comes upon me. My stomach clenches, acid rising in my mouth along with the soul-deep terror of knowing that this sack is going to be catastrophic. Then the lightning-hot pain and the sound of my bone snapping like hard wood. Stomach-turning pain.
That snap, that sick sound echoes in my ears even as I take another sharp breath.
Then Anna is there, climbing into bed, the mattress barely dipping under her slight weight.
For the first time, I regret buying a king-size bed. She might as well be in Siberia, hugging the edge of her side, while I’m laid out on my back like a slab of beef on mine.
Because I’ve been in the dark longer than she has, I can see the shadowy shape of her shoulders, hunched over and drawn away from me. Her curls spill across the pillow in a dark, rambling mass.
Regret swells in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
My words hang loud and uncomfortable over us.
Bed sheets rustle as she turns, and then she’s next to me, her warm hand smoothing over my lower belly.
I love the way she touches me, the way she finds the exact spots that are most sensitive. I slide my arm under her neck and draw her closer, comforted when she lays her head on my shoulder. The curve of her luscious ass fills my palm. I give it a light squeeze.
“I’ll apologize to Gray tomorrow.” Which won’t be easy, because we almost never fight, and I was a colossal dick.
Anna’s breasts press against my side as she sighs. She’s wearing one of those thin nightshirts she favors, which does nothing to block the warmth of her body, and I struggle to ignore that as her fingertips trace a circle under my navel.
“We are, all of us, fucked-up in some way,” she says. “The only difference is a matter of how deep our crazy goes and how we handle our shit. Frankly, I think the crazy comes and goes in cycles.”
I make a sound. It’s supposed to be a laugh, but it sounds like despair. “It must be my time of the month, then.”
“Mmm...” Anna strokes me again. “I shouldn’t have invited Gray here without asking you. I’m sorry.”
I can’t hold back. In one move, I roll over onto her, and her thighs part instantly, cradling my hips as I brace my forearms on either side of her so I won’t crush her chest. Her eyes gleam in the dark, her hair a wild halo around her pale face.
“Your leg,” she protests against my seeking mouth.
“Is fine.” I nuzzle her lips then dip my tongue into her sweet mouth. She tastes faintly of mint toothpaste, but underneath is pure, delicious Anna. Kissing her plump, pouty mouth makes my head light. It spins when my erection rubs over a tickle of curls and slick desire. That she gets wet for me as easily as I grow hard for her is a high I’ll never get over.
