Clarity - Nicole Dykes Page 0,23

just looks fucking uncomfortable.

But that’s Rhys.

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you settle in.”

She nods, and I exit, feeling Rhys follow. I hate how I know his scent. I dream about that scent sometimes, manly and safe. Even though I've never been able to lay my head on his shoulder or really have long enough to really take him all in, I know how he smells. And it’s fucking delicious.

“You don’t really have to stay on the couch.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

“Won’t that be suspicious if the social worker comes to check on us?”

His eyes darken, and I wonder what happened at the meeting. He looks around the second floor. “Does this place have another room?”

It does.

Still, I find myself wanting him in my bed. “Another room would be the same thing as the couch.

His eyes meet mine. “Blair. I can’t sleep in the same bed with you.”

I think I'm actually blushing with embarrassment from being so fucking stupid. “Of course not.”

I start to walk away, needing some space, but his hand catches mine. I look up at him in shock, and he lets go like I bit him. “I can’t sleep with anyone, Blair.”

I nod, feeling that familiar soft spot I have for him. “My bedroom is huge.” I gesture for him to follow me down the hall where my bedroom is located. I push through the double doors of the massive room to show him I'm not kidding.

He looks around, his eyes taking in every detail, but I swear the way he’s looking at it, it might as well be a prison. I have a king-sized bed, and a large flat screen. There are two comfy chairs and a pink chaise lounge chair by the window. I point at it. “You could sleep there, but I think you're longer than it is.”

He nods his head. “Okay.”

I look at him like he’s crazy because clearly he is. “Rhys, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.” His eyes tell me he’s deadly serious. “It’s fine. I’ve slept in way worse.”

I flop down on my bed, my arm flung over my eyes as my head is angled up at the ceiling. My feet are still on the floor. “What if we put pillows between us? It seems really fucking stupid to have you sleep on that thing.”

Just because he’s afraid we might what? End up spooning in the middle of the night.

“The chair is fine.”

I sit up and look over at him. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m gonna take the little brat shopping.”

“Don’t call her that.” He doesn’t seem irritated though, almost like he finds the nickname amusing.

“She’s awful, Rhys. You know that, right?” My eyes meet his, and my tone is playful even though I hate it because I actually like her already. Even if she called me “Barbie” and gave me a ton of attitude. She’s obviously hellbent on giving me a hard time.

“Yeah, but she’s kind of great.”

I smile. “Aw, you’re smitten.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve never been smitten. She’s a tough kid. And you do look like a Barbie.”

I meet his eyes, my hands itching to touch him, but I don’t. “Then you must have a Barbie fantasy.”

He doesn’t argue. “Thank you, Blair.”

I don’t know how to handle how he’s looking at me. “It’s not really that big of a deal. The house is huge.”

“I’m going to go check on her.”

I nod dumbly as he leaves, and I watch him walking up the stairs.

I could be in over my head here.

Blair is truly amazing. There’s no denying it.

I know I’m hard to deal with, and Bree hasn’t taken to Blair yet, so she’s not going to make it easy.

Still, Blair had her room ready. She was willing to share her bed with me. And not only that, she took Bree to the store, and they came back with a ton of shit.

Bree didn’t look thrilled, and I'm sure that’s confusing to Blair, but I know she was grateful even if she doesn’t trust Blair yet.

“Hopefully she sleeps okay.”

Blair sits on the step next to me on the front porch of her house. She leaves several inches between our thighs. “She will. That bed looks nice.”

“Better than a fucking chair.”

I know she’s irritated with me. I’ve never slept in a bed with anyone else before. It’s not personal. It’s dark out, but the street she lives on is well lit with streetlights and porch lights. Sedans drive by every once and awhile, probably fathers coming home to their kids.

“Thanks for today.”

She lifts