16

THAT’S RIGHT, GIVE IN TO THIS

JACK

I usually sleep soundly, thanks to Sienna's ability to sleep through the night herself. However, tonight I am jolted awake by a noise sometime after two in the morning.

It sounds like whimpering.

My first instinct is to check the baby monitor, but it isn’t coming from there. It’s coming from the other side of the couch.

Slowly, I fight to shake off the drowsiness and sit upright. My eyes gradually adjust in the darkness. And that's when I see Quinn, her small frame trembling.

She tosses and turns and a knot forms in my stomach. Her breath is ragged and so unlike her usual calm and measured demeanor. I know it’s just a nightmare, but seeing her like this still is unsettling and the need I have to fix it is strong.

I stand from the couch and approach her sleeping form, trying my best not to scare her. But as soon as I place a hand on her shoulder, she startles awake with a violent lurch.

“Hey, it’s just me.” My voice is still hoarse with sleep, and I say the words barely above a whisper as I brush her hair back from her damp forehead.

All the tension drains out of her body, and I can’t stop myself from sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her.

She stills for a fraction of a second, then completely melts into me. That’s right, give in to this.

“Good girl. You’re okay.” I readjust my body to settle us both more comfortably. “That must have been a hell of a nightmare. You scared me to death.”

She rests her head on my shoulder innocently and sighs. “Scared you? I’m never going back to sleep now. I don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with.”

“You asked me to snuggle.”

She jerks away from me and looks up at me with her mouth half open, and it’s fucking adorable. “I did not.”

“You definitely did.”

“Please kill me.”

“No.” I tug her body back into mine and she seems too exhausted to resist. “Look at us, we’re snuggling now. You got what you wanted after all.”

She glares at me.

I boop her on the nose and it softens the grumpy look on her face. “Do you have nightmares often?”

She doesn’t answer right away, but then she says, “Lately, yeah. Usually I’m unphased, but they’re just so incessant. And they feel so real .”

I nod thoughtfully in the dark. “Stress?”

“I’m not stressed.” She’s still adamant about this, but we both know she’s lying. It’s even more obvious now.

“Anxiety, then?”

She’s reluctant, but she finally admits, “Maybe a little.”

“Well. I can offer you two things: a movie marathon for the rest of the night that we'll both regret in the morning or something to help you sleep.”

She doesn’t hesitate to accept the offer of the latter and it makes me wonder exactly how much her anxiety is affecting her lately. From the outside looking in, she seems so calm and collected. If I wasn’t aware of the things she’s dealing with mentally right now, I probably wouldn’t have considered that her nightmare was anything but just that—a nightmare.

We’d all probably feel much better if all the arrests were made and her dad’s case closed, putting the lingering fear that’s plagued our town firmly in the past.

Lucky for her, I’m hyper focused on everything about her at this point, and am ready and willing to force her to let me help in any way I can.

I reluctantly pull away from her and she flops back onto the couch, staring blankly into space as I head for the stairs to grab my emergency anxiety meds from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom attached to my bedroom. I peek in at Sienna on my way back down, and when I reach the bottom step I question whether or not it’s the best idea to so casually give someone else my prescription medication.

I immediately push the thought aside when Quinn comes back into view because there are not many other things in the world I want more right now than to erase that troubled look from her face.

I walk past her and into the kitchen to grab water for her to take the medicine with. I fill a glass from the dispenser in the fridge and make my way back to her. She gives me a weak but grateful smile as she takes the pill from my outstretched hand, not even bothering to ask what it is before swallowing it down with a gulp.

The trust she’s placed in me does things to my insides. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

I won’t take it for granted.

“I was thinking I should fix the guest room up for you.” I take the seat next to her again.

She doesn’t say anything, just lets her head fall back and releases a small hum of what I assume is agreement.

I explain anyway. “I can’t imagine this will be the only time you need to sleep over and the couch is not ideal.”

The thought flits into my mind that the room that shares a wall with mine is also not ideal because she belongs with me.

In my bed.

“You could sleep in there now, but no one has been in there in ages.” Or we could skip these bullshit formalities and go straight to the part where you’re in my bed.

What the hell am I thinking? I need to get a grip. It’s not fair to her, and this line of thought just makes everything more complicated than it needs to be.

“I’m fine here.”

I nod and heave myself off the couch again, taking my place on the other side away from the dizzying feel of her body heat so close to me.

We both lie back down, and I’m more tense now than before. The room is filled with an uneven silence, broken by the sound of her irregular breathing. I wonder if she’s still awake staring at the ceiling like I am, or if she’s fallen back asleep.

“You’re a good friend, Jack.” She yawns and squirms around, trying to get comfortable.

Her words hang in the air. We are more than just boss and employee or even student and professor. We are friends. Our connection went beyond mere passing interactions after our second time sharing the same space. Seeing her with Sienna has already planted the seed that there is something more to her—more to us . And with her giving a name to it, it solidifies and takes root in my mind, becoming a tangible and undeniable classification.

I was certainly a good friend to her when I helped Adrian fall face first into the corner of a melamine desk a few days ago.

Though, some may have considered me doing such a thing might have been for purely selfish reasons; the skin under his right eye split beautifully, and the look on his face when I told him what I’d do if he so much as breathed in Quinn’s direction again? Priceless .

Naming our relationship somehow relieves the pressure I’ve felt building; gives me room to breathe again because now I don’t have to rationalize the very strong need I feel to care for her in every way.

We are friends.

That’s what friends do.

Do friends share a bed, Jack?

I mentally berate myself but come to the conclusion that yes, sometimes they do.

And I’m about to become the best friend Quinn Ivor has ever had.