him pick me up and wrap my legs around his trim waist before he carried me off.
I’d forgotten it was almost three in the morning.
Just like I’d forgotten the show tonight after our long weekend thanks to me dragging them to Faithful to deal with my family and then around Seattle to sightsee.
We climbed the stairs and traveled down a long hallway and then another, and I didn’t realize I should have been paying attention to where we were going just in case until we were already entering a bedroom.
I peeked over my shoulder since my back was to the room as Rich carried me.
The walls were decorated with periwinkle wallpaper that had a dark-gold filigree print. Each of the six arched windows taking up three of the bedroom’s walls were draped by long, heavy panels of dark purple while another chandelier, this one a mix of crystal and candle, hung from the black lacquered ceiling that matched the wooden floors.
Braced against the furthest wall was a large four-poster bed made of black iron and an elegantly carved headboard.
Jericho immediately started for it.
I looked around as he crossed the large room. His sneakered feet were silent, but without carpeting, and thanks to the high ceiling, there was still a soft echo as he walked. When he reached the bed, instead of laying me on it, he swung around until I was facing the bed instead of the door. He then dropped down, draping his legs over the foot of the bed as he lay on his back.
His breathing began to deepen immediately as I felt his grip on my ass loosening.
“Is this your bedroom?” I asked before he could fall asleep. It didn’t seem like his style.
Eyes closed, he confirmed my suspicions when he sleepily shook his head no. I tried to climb off him so he could sleep in peace, but his arms tightened around me, a silent order to stay put.
Five maybe ten minutes passed with me lying on his rising chest and grinning at him as he fought to stay awake. I didn’t understand why he bothered considering how late it was, but he’s never looked more adorable to me.
Me, on the other hand, I was too excited to sleep.
I toyed with the black hair falling over his bunched brows as I began to sing softly to him. Rosalie was the only one I’d ever done it for whenever she used to have trouble sleeping. It didn’t seem to be working on Jericho, though, as the troubled dip between his brows grew deeper. I knew each time he clenched his teeth as if he were restraining or frustrated with himself as the muscle in his pale cheek ticked.
Whatever had been keeping him awake most nights and moody during the day these past three weeks had not gone away.
In the morning, I vowed to get to the bottom of it, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. They couldn’t expect me to bear my demons while they kept their own hidden under lock and key.
As I silently brooded, Jericho’s eyes started to drift shut again when Houston walked into the room.
Eyeing him over my shoulder with the side of my face in my palm, I watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and admired his abs flex as he did it. I liked that none of them were overly muscular. What they did possess made it more than clear that they were strong and able men.
After tossing his shirt on the floor, he made his way over to the bed, his amused gaze shifting from me to Jericho and back again.
“You’re not going to let the man sleep?” he teased.
“It’s not me. It’s him,” I told Houston as he towered over me while I stared down at Jericho. “I tried singing, but he’s stubborn.”
I felt the bed dip under Houston’s weight as he braced his knee on the mattress next to me, and then he was pulling my head back using my hair as his personal reins and kissing my lips.
“So wake him up.”
As if his tone hadn’t made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion, Houston lifted me off Jericho and the bed until I was standing in front of him with my back to his chest. His hands then gripped the hem of the distressed, black cotton dress I’d worn to our show tonight over my head.
I immediately shivered as the cool air brushed my skin, and I stood there in only my panties,