{18+ COMPLETE} For the past three years, Bren Hadaway has been preparing to die.
When he was sixteen, he watched his dad murder his mom. And ever since, he's been counting down the days until it was his turn to be at the end of a gun. And Bren has...
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Fingers brushed against my scalp as they played with my hair. Warm breath hit the back of my neck. Madie's chest rose and fell beneath my head.
God, this was a dream to wake up to after so many mornings alone. My hand was flung over her hip—at least I was pretty sure it was her hip. I gave a squeeze, and she squirmed a little, confirming I was right as she moved beneath my grasp. Without opening my eyes, I grazed my hand up her side, appreciating her curves and the simple fact that she was naked. And that she was holding me.
It should be the other way around. I should be holding her. I should be the one brushing my fingers through her hair, touching her until she opened her eyes. It should be the other way around, but I couldn't get myself to wake up enough to flip the situation. It took me forever to fall asleep last night.
And she felt too good. This felt too good.
Madie murmured that she loved me, and I let myself fall asleep again, bringing those words with me so I could dream about them.
And I did.
The next time I woke, the only thing beneath my head was a mass of pillows.
It was comfortable. But nothing could beat the comfort of Madie's touch. And that was gone...which was a problem.
I forced myself up. Looking around the room, I searched for Madie. She was walking to the door, wearing an odd combination of my clothes. And it only took me seconds to jump out of bed and catch her before she turned the door handle.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her back into me, and she collided against my chest with a gasp.
"Going somewhere, baby?" I asked, and my voice came out all scratchy and hoarse. It sounded parched—like I hadn't drunk anything for days.
To be honest, my system could probably use some refueling and hydration. We were pretty active yesterday.
"Yes," Madie breathed. It was accompanied by a light laugh, and I scowled because there was absolutely nothing funny about her leaving me.
That laugh cut off as I spun her around and took a step in, leaving us pressed against the back of the door. There was still a smile on her face, though, and she bit her lip to try to control it.
I didn't know where the hell she would be going dressed like she was—no shoes, no bra, my barely-buttoned dress shirt, and the sweatpants that I took off last night before our bath.
I palmed the door behind her, leaning on it. "What's so funny, Madeline?"
When she didn't do anything besides flick her eyes up and down my naked front once, I asked, "Are you trying to sneak away on me?"
"I wasn't trying to sneak away," she said. "I was just grabbing the room service that was delivered." Madie's teasing smile broadened. "But I guess now I know how to get you up."
