them.” This part is coherent, and I know I’m urging him to go save lives at this moment.
He doesn’t say anything else. It’s then that I know they can’t be saved. They’re already dead.
His body is hard and I’m pressed against his chest. It’s the home I’ve always known I’d have in him. When he turns to my room, a big part of me wants him to bypass where I’m sleeping and take me right to his.
Why does this man have to be so fucking honorable? It drives me nuts, yet this is him. I can’t be alone tonight. The day has seen so many emotions from me, and it’s hard to believe what’s occurred in twenty-four hours. A family murdered to copycat my own family’s horrific massacre, being swept off the campus with Greenlyn yesterday, waking up with the snoring Wells near me on a big chair, in the Montgomery living room, my standoff with his bitch ex-fiancée, the kiss to undo every other kiss in my life, the pictures of Annie lying lifeless in my childhood home, the comfort of Wells, when I had come undone at the memories, remembering the journal, yet I’m still at peace in his arms.
He lowers his body, depositing me gently on the bed, and as he backs away, I reach for his hand to stop him. “Please don’t leave me alone tonight.” His eyes shoot to me, heat flashing in them.
“Mal, we can’t…”
“Wells.” It’s a plea, but I can’t seem to give it much effort. I’m instantly tired and can barely keep my eyes open. “Not like that. I’m safe with you. Please keep me safe.” The world around me goes silent, and the second I close my eyes, I’m out.
Pillows are propped in the middle of the bed, a light snore encompassing the room. The door is closed to the hallway, but a brightness illuminates it, from the closet, sitting on the opposite side of the room.
I lean up on my elbows, pushing the fluffy pillows down in order to look in awe at the sharp and beautiful features of the only man who will ever own my heart. With the sparse of light, I can still make out his darker blonde hair, his nose, just a little bit crooked from a wrestling injury. Yeah, I stalked him, too, when he wouldn’t return my letters. He must have felt bad, not remembering a Franz Enderlin, who apparently went to school with him. Of course, Franz was me, and not a real person, as I tried to get as much information about this man as I could. If he wouldn’t return my letters, he wouldn’t approve my friend request.
I, on the other hand, kept my Facebook open and not private for the reason that I hope he, too, stalked me—though it was under MJ Strick and only Jules knew this. I had hoped she leaked it to my police angel.
His body and his face, all the way down to the lips any girl would die for, and the birthmark at the hairline of his neck are all perfect parts of him I love and adore.
“I can sense you’re staring at me, Mal.”
Ah, that three-letter nickname no one ever called me because it was too confusing with my aunt Mally leaves me almost light-headed. But I recover quickly.
“How do you know I’m staring?” He pops one eye open, and he’s caught me. I don’t have the sense to look away, but then again, maybe I want to own it.
“I can see you, sweetheart.”
“Well,” I begin, and I resist to touch him, “maybe you’re just too irresistible not to stare at.”
He rubs his eyes and settles them back on me when he’s done. “You’re good for a man’s ego. You know this, right?”
I move the barrier between us. “I’m good for a lot of things when it comes to you, Wells Shanahan.”
I think I have the pillows out of his reach when he grabs both from me, rearranging them back as our barrier. I ignore this, but continue my intense stare. “You stayed. I wasn’t sure you would.”
He has a light blanket over him. He didn’t get under the covers, but it leads me to wonder what he has on under this thin shield of fabric. “You were crying, so I crawled onto this bed and fell asleep like a baby.”
“Because this is where you needed to be,” I explain, but I go straight onto the next topic I need to tackle. “So, are