Page 31 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

CONRAD

F or the second morning in a row I wake up with a heavy arm wrapped around me and the sounds of his breathing fill the space at a steady beat. My mind still can’t seem to wrap itself around everything that happened last night.

I told him I had feelings for him.

I kissed him.

I let him jerk me off and surprisingly enough, I wanted to do the same to him. I would’ve if he let me.

‘Just you for now.’

He would be a gentleman about it. That’s just the type of guy he is.

Kind, considerate, and always putting other people’s needs before his.

My eyes glance down to where his head is tucked into my chest. I can’t believe where I am or what happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Never in my life did I ever expect to be sleeping next to a man like I am now, in nothing but my boxers and cuddling like two teenagers.

But unlike how it normally is when I wake up, my heart isn’t panicked.

It’s calm and relaxed and the more I think about it, the more I realize I’ve slept better the last two nights than I have in the last twenty-nine years.

My fingers instinctively start to play with his hair which he reacts to by taking a deep breath in his sleep and pulling himself closer to me.

I smile down at him and close my eyes to go back to sleep when my phone starts to buzz uncontrollably on the bedside table.

I left it there last night to charge after cleaning up and crawling back into bed next to him.

My arm reaches out to grab it and jostles Henry in the process.

“Where are you going?” he murmurs, still half asleep. His arm tightens around me, not wanting to let go.

“Nowhere, I just need to turn this off. Go back to sleep,” I urge, resituating myself so he’s comfortable again.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he sighs before pressing a kiss into my ribcage and drifting off again. I continue to twirl a piece of his hair in my fingers as I unlock my phone.

New Messages: Dungeons and Dickheads

Kolbi:

Happy Sunday gentleman. This is your den mother checking in to make sure you all survived the storm.

Hank:

We’re good here. Just hunkered down all weekend. We’re about to venture out to the gym since the rain is finally letting up.

Malcolm:

Ophelia and I had a great weekend thanks for asking. We closed the bar since it’s on the water and spent the entire weekend enjoying one another’s company

Kolbi:

I’m going to pretend like I don’t know how you’ve spent your weekend. Conrad, brother, you good?

Malcolm:

Kolb, you don’t know how I spent my weekend. I didn’t even tell you the good parts.

Hank:

Dude we don’t need to know ‘the good parts’. Ophelia is Bailey’s best friend, I’ll hear about it from her. I don’t need to hear about it from you too.

Malcom:

You might. I tried something I read in one of her books and let’s just say we -both- had the best happily ever after we’ve ever had.

Hank:

Trust me dude, we have also tried plenty of things my wife has read. I already know all about that

Kolbi:

Conrad please chime in here man. I could use one of your gripes right about now to get them to stop.

I’m good. Just hung out all weekend with Annie.

While it isn’t the whole truth, it also isn’t a lie. Annie has been with me the whole time so technically I have hung out with her all weekend.

Malcolm:

I still can’t believe you got a fucking dog dude.

Hank:

Bailey won’t stop begging me to get one now. Seeing Annie once a week at game night isn’t enough for her.

Kolbi:

You’re telling me. Magnolia brings up getting a puppy at least once a day.

Malcolm:

I’m enough of a dog for Ophelia to handle thankfully. No dogs and no babies for us which is A-okay with me.

I roll my eyes at his message just as a message from Kolbi comes in that is just between the two of us. Squinting at my phone, I click in to read it.

Kolbi:

Okay please don’t get pissed but I got nervous when you weren’t replying and pinged your tracker. Where are you? Your car isn’t showing up at your place.

My heart lurches in my chest reading his message. Working in private security, he has trackers on all of us. They’re like his way of making sure we’re okay and not doing anything dumb. I can’t believe he tracked me down.

I’m with a friend. Don’t worry about it.

Again, not really a lie because Henry is my friend. Isn’t he? What is he now after last night? My thoughts are starting to run away when he texts me again.

Kolbi:

A female friend?

Just a friend. Decided to stay here through the storm. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hunt me down like a stalker next time.

I know, I’m sorry man. I just get nervous.

Well I’m fine and staying with a friend.

Okay brother, you’re staying with a friend. I’m glad you’re okay.

And Kolbi?

Yeah?

Don’t tell the guys.

I won’t brother, I promise.

I turn my phone off completely and set it back down on the table.

Gluing my eyes to the ceiling, it starts to sink in what happened last night and the potential impact of it all.

Everything is different now, I can’t go back and undo what happened.

My chest starts to tighten and I’m finding it harder to take in a full breath.

“Everything okay?” The vibration of his voice against my chest seems to send a shockwave through me causing me to feel an intense need to escape. I roll out from under him and start to pace the room in an attempt to walk off some of the panic.

“Conrad? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He uses the back of his hand to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. His bicep flexes as he does and I feel the feral urge to lunge at him.

“What is this?” I bark and throw my hands out to my sides.

“What is what?” he questions, opening his eyes and propping himself up on his elbow to track me with tired eyes.

“This? Us ?” I enunciate the ‘us’ and flail my arms between us to ensure there is no more confusion. My breath comes out shallow and it suddenly feels as if I’m swallowing pins.

“I’m not sure what this is but I also haven’t had my morning cup of tea, so I’m not sure what anything is yet.” His attempt at a smile does nothing to settle the anxiety that’s growing in my gut.

“I’m not joking, sweets. This isn’t a joking matter,” I spit back. My feet halt at the end of the bed and I glare at him from where I stand. The sudden shift in the room causes him to soften and sit up straight with his hands in his lap and the white, fluffy duvet covers him from the waist down.

“I know it’s not, love. I’m sorry for teasing.” His voice is soft as he speaks. The greens in his eyes steady me. “What do you want this to be?”

I blink a few times, my heart settling the longer he looks at me. “I don’t know.”

It feels like a cop-out response but genuinely, to my core, I’m not sure what I want this to be.

I know I like him. I know I want to spend more time with him.

But the idea of putting an official title to what we’re doing or giving him any kind of name other than ‘Henry’ makes my brain short circuit and causes my heart to instantly panic.

“You don’t have to know,” he offers.

“What if people ask about us? What do we tell them then?”

“We tell them whatever you want to tell them.”

“Well I don’t know what I would tell them,” I practically shout. I know I shouldn’t have but the ever consuming anxiety I’m feeling is making it hard to control myself. Annie, who’s asleep on the floor, hurries out of the room and Henry looks like he wishes he could go with her.

“You don’t have to know that either.” His face and voice are soft and I’m amazed at how calm he can be. At a loss for words, I just stand at the end of the bed for a moment before running my hands through my hair. I rope my fingers together behind my neck and look up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he calls to me and extends a hand for me to take. “Come here.”

I study his hand for a few beats before taking it, and his thumb rubs the back of my hand when I do. Reluctantly, I let him pull me in and take a seat next to him on the bed. When he pulls my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, the spot instantly warms at his touch.

“You don’t have to have all the answers all the time. It’s okay to live in a gray space of ‘I don’t know’ and ‘I’m still figuring things out.’ You don’t have to have your entire life mapped out all the time.”

“But that’s how I like to live my life—by schedules and routines. It’s how my brain works, it’s the only way I can live without absolutely losing my mind.” My teeth grind together at the thought of not having it all planned out for once.

“Did you plan last night?” He raises a brow at me.

“No.”

“Did you plan to come over to my place on Friday before you just did it?”

I pause before answering. “No.”

“And did you plan to talk to your therapist about having a crush on me or kiss me in the rain last night or fall completely head over heels for me?” His voice is all tease and for once, I’m not annoyed by it.

“I’m not head over heels for you,” I deadpan .

“Not yet you aren’t.” He smiles and bumps his shoulder with mine.

“My point is, you can’t plan for everything.

And more often than not, the best things in life aren’t planned—they just happen.

You’ve survived so many unplanned things already in life, I know you can survive a few more.

Just go with the flow and let things happen, you’ll see. ”

My emotions feel like someone has put them through a blender and I almost wish I had a session with Hanna so I could talk to her about it. When he bumps my shoulder again, I turn to look at him.

“I like you, Conrad, a lot. And I’m really glad about last night and getting to wake up with you this morning. Honestly, I hope we do it again.”

“I hope we do it again too,” I offer with a hint of shyness in my voice.

I’m not sure why, it wasn’t like I just met him or anything.

But something about what we have feels different, it feels new.

And with that newness comes a whole wave of fresh nervous energy that is cut with excitement and anticipation.

“Okay, then we can do it again.” He shakes my hand that he’s still holding and runs his thumb along the back of it. “Like I said last night, one step at a time. We don’t have to rush anything and that includes telling anyone about us if you’re not ready to.”

“I just don’t know what to call you if anyone asks,” I hesitate as I say it because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’m sure part of him would like for me to call him my boyfriend but I don’t think I’m ready for that.

“You could call me…your special friend.” He perks up with his suggestion, clearly thinking it’s a pretty solid choice.

“That makes you sound like a hooker—or a stripper,” I point out.

“Darling, please , I dance much better than a stripper,” he scoffs and waves a hand at me which I snatch out of the air and kiss the palm of. His cheeks bloom with hints of pink at the move.

“I’m not calling you my ‘special friend,’ sweets.”

“Why don’t you just call me Henry then?”

“Just Henry?”

“Just Henry,” he repeats.

“ My Henry ,” I try to whisper to myself but he gasps when he hears me and leans over to kiss me on the cheek.

“I like that one the best.”