There was always that option.
He heard movement next door, then the sound of the cellophane being pulled off the T-shirt.
"Thanks for the top," Blue called.
"Let me know when you're decent," he said.
"Could be a long wait," Blue said, and he smiled to himself.
Even when she was down, she was still a smart-ass. Was it any wonder he adored her?
His smile faded as his head filled with images of how she must look right now, naked and pink and flushed from the shower, pulling the T-shirt over her head …
He took a healthy slug of his drink. He was an asshole for even thinking about her like that when she was at her lowest ebb.
"I'm decent," she called.
I'm not.
He got up and made her a Johnny Walker and coke, taking it and his own drink next door with him. He found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, the voluminous T-shirt more than ensuring her modesty.
He handed her the drink and she gave a small appreciative sigh. "Thanks."
He sat on the end of the bed and considered her. She'd washed off the last of her make-up in the shower and finger-combed her hair off her forehead. She looked much younger than her thirty years, and her eyes were heavy with sadness. If she was his, he would haul her into his arms and hold her till she slept.
But she wasn't. She was simply his friend, and all he could offer was what she would accept.
"Pretty big day," he said. "How are you holding up?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "I'm okay."
It was complete bullshit, of course. She'd had people at her all afternoon, her former foster mates gravitating to her strength and calm as though they could absorb some of it via osmosis.
"Was it always like that?" he asked. "Them all hanging off you?"
Blue frowned. "What do you mean?"
He couldn't believe she hadn't noticed. "You're the strong one. They all want to be like you."
She screwed up her face. "No, they don't."
"Blue, I stood there with you and listened to them pour their tales of woe at your feet. And you didn't say a word about yourself."
"I didn't need to."
"Because you don't need or want their approval."
"You think they want my approval?"
"Yes. And I think they want you to show them how to be like you are - tough, resilient."
"Well, they're fucking idiots, because I'm just as screwed up as the next person," she said. "Depending on what day of the week it is, even more so."
"You're not fucked up. You're amazing," he said quietly. "I don't know if I've ever said that to you before. That first day I tried to pick you up and you knocked me back? That was the luckiest day of my life because it made me slow down and talk to you and get to know you. And you're worth knowing, Blue Sullivan."
Blue stared at the bedcover, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, he guessed.
"You're allowed to cry," he said.
"I've done my crying," she said firmly.
Of course, Blue would have a quota for her own tears.
She knocked back the rest of her drink in one long swallow.
"Thanks for that," she said, turning to slide the glass onto the bedside table. "Just what the doctor ordered."
The movement caused the T-shirt to ride up her right thigh and his gaze got caught on the smooth expanse of skin on display. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear.
God, he hoped not.
His cock got hard as he remembered how slick and swollen she'd been last time, how she'd tasted, the way she'd driven her fingers into his hair and held him in place as he loved her with his mouth.
He downed the remainder of his drink, too, and pushed himself to his feet.
"I'll let you get some sleep," he said.
"Thanks. For everything, Eddie."
He was pretty sure he'd deserve her gratitude a whole lot more if he wasn't obsessed with what was hidden beneath the thin layer of white cotton she was wearing, but he nodded anyway.
"I'll leave the connecting door unlocked, in case you need anything," he said.
Her gaze was very steady on his face. "I won't."
He collected her empty glass and took it through to his own room before shutting one of the connecting doors. He stripped immediately and hit the shower, letting the hot water ease the tension from his shoulders and neck. The heat didn't do anything to dispel the tension in his cock, however, and he briefly considered making use of the moisturizer the motel so generously provided to take care of business for himself.
He didn't want to stroke himself to release in a shower cubicle, though. He wanted the smooth weight of Blue's breasts in his hands. He wanted the tight heat of her pussy around his cock. He wanted to make her come until she begged him to stop. Then he wanted to hold her in his arms afterward and tell her that she didn't always have to be strong, and that if she stumbled, he would catch her. Every time.
He turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, drying himself before walking into the bedroom. The sheets were starchy-stiff against his skin as he settled between them, and he reached out to flick off the light.
He stared at the ceiling, desire and hope tugging at him. Despite what he'd said to his brother, he couldn't help wondering what would happen if he got up now and went next door. Would Blue reject him? If he told her what he was thinking, how he was feeling, would she listen, or deny him in the same way that she'd denied herself the comfort of tears today?
He thought about Blue, about everything he knew about her - her toughness, her personal code of honor, the way she lived - and he knew, down to his bones, that if he went next door right now, she would turn him away. She'd throw every failed relationship he'd ever had back in his face. She'd remind him of his short attention span, his inability to commit. She'd back herself into a corner and do everything but draw a gun on him to protect herself.
If he wanted her - and he did - he was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to jungle-crawl beneath her defenses. He was going to have to prove himself.
He closed his eyes. He'd waited ten years for Blue. He'd wait another ten if he had to.
Because she was worth it, and more.
Chapter Nineteen
Blue punched her pillow into a different shape and tried to find a cool patch of cotton to rest her cheek against.
Everything felt wrong. The sheets were scratchy, the mattress too soft, and even though she wanted nothing more than to give herself up to the blessed forgetfulness of sleep, her brain wouldn't stop working.
She kept going over the events of the day, moments unrolling like a movie in her mind: Eddie getting out of the car this morning, revealing his new GQ haircut; Sienna's hand curving protectively over the back of her little girl's head; the pictures of Alice at the wake, her crooked smile and straight-down-the-barrel gaze evident in every one; the warmth and pressure of Eddie's hand on the small of her back as they entered the funeral home; the haunted desperation in Jonah's eyes as he told her about his recent brush with the law.
It was too much, all of it. The grief, the helplessness of her fellow foster kids, the never-ending battle she was constantly fighting with herself to stop herself from wanting Eddie.
The need that was throbbing deep in her pussy right now because she knew he was lying next door, only a few inches of plaster and wood away.
She rolled onto her belly and pushed her face deep into the pillow. Then she rolled onto her back and kicked the sheets and blankets away viciously, not stopping until they were bundled at the foot of the bed in a tangled heap. Panting and tense, she lay on the mattress, trying to ignore the siren's song whispering in her ear.
Eddie will make it better. Eddie will make you feel so good. Eddie will make it all go away.
He would, too. If she went next door, he would make her body sing. He'd gift her with his beautiful, thick cock, and everything else would fade away.
She wanted that so badly right now, wanted something to keep the darkness at bay. The memories.
She didn't want to be dragged back into all the bad old stuff. Didn't want it in her head. Her life was good now. She had friends, she had Eddie and Raf, Lena and Maggie. The gang at Brothers Ink.
Her life was good.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but it didn't stop the tears from closing her throat and burning the backs of her eyes. She felt a sob forming, felt her diaphragm and belly tensing.
"Fuck this."
She scrambled to the edge of the bed and stumbled to her feet. She could hear herself breathing in the darkness. She gave herself another long beat to change her mind, then she moved toward the dividing door.
The doorknob moved silently beneath her hand. She stepped into Eddie's room and stood blinking in the darkness, trying to get her bearings. Slowly she discerned the deeper shadow that was the bed. She took a step forward, her hands going to the hem of her T-shirt.
She pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the ground as she reached the bed. It took her a moment to find the edge of the covers, then she lifted them and crawled onto the mattress.