Page 141 of Twisted Needs

It’s late enough that the room has gone almost completely dark around me except for the muted glow of the television. The guys are probably all asleep by now. I should be too. We have an early flight in the morning, but I can’t bring myself to care.

Not when Anders is sprawled across our bed back in D.C., talking to me with that flushed, emotionally exhausted look he gets after a long day.

Our bed.

I love thinking of it as ours. And I love him. So fucking much…

I chuckle. “I fuck with Lee.”

“You’re so fucking goofy.” Anders snorts softly and shifts against the pillows. The camera shakes for a second before settling again. I catch a glimpse of bare thigh and one of my old hockey shirts riding up his stomach before he resettles beneath the blankets.

He told his friends about us tonight, and now he’s lying in my bed like he belongs there, calling me afterward to decompress like this is just what we do now. Like this is normal.

This is normal now.

“I miss you,” I tell him quietly.

His expression softens immediately. I just look at him for a moment after that. He’s lying half on his side with one arm tucked beneath the pillow, face lit blue from whatever true crime documentary he’s got playing in the background. I hate when he watches those alone because he always ends up startling himself afterward and then pretends he isn’t scared when he calls me.

The light catches the soft edges of his face beautifully.

Those fucking eyes.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at the world as openly as Anders does. Even now, after everything he’s been through, there’s still something unbearably kind about the way he sees people. The kind of kindness that makes me want to protect him from everything.

“What are you looking at?” he asks softly.

“My gorgeous boyfriend.”

He immediately rolls his eyes, but I catch the smile tugging at his mouth before he ducks his face deeper into the pillow.

“It’s too dark in there,” he mutters. “You look like you’re calling me from a cave.”

“The room has blackout curtains.”

“I need to see you.”

I sigh dramatically and reach over to switch the lamp on beside the bed. Warm light spills across the room immediately. Anders’ face brightens the second he sees me properly. “There’s my Daddy,” he says softly, immediately laughing at himself a second later.

The more he says shit like that, the less it feels like it’s just a bedroom thing. Honestly, I think he just says it to get a reaction out of me.

I shake my head a little, smiling despite myself. “Stay in bed until I get home tomorrow,” I murmur. “I don’t think I’ll sleep right until I’m back in our bed.”

The second the words leave my mouth, Anders stills. “Our bed?” he repeats.

I swallow. No taking it back now. “Our bed,” I say again. “Our room. Our home.”

His eyes flicker instantly. Emotion moves across his face so fast and openly it makes my chest ache. “Pet’ka,” he says weakly. “You can’t just say shit like that so casually.” He laughs once under his breath and wipes quickly beneath one eye before pretending he didn’t.

I love him so much it scares me sometimes.

“I should be home around noon tomorrow,” I tell him quietly.

“Okay, good.” He shifts onto his back. “I have to meet with my creative writing professor for coffee tomorrow morning anyway.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. She emailed me and said it was urgent, which feels threatening.”