Infinite Us(24)

"I need to hit this," I told him pulling my laptop closer toward me. "Just give me a little space and I promise I'll get my head right."

"Alright, Nash. I hear you, just … " He bit his lip when I exhaled, scrubbing my hands over my face. "It anything comes up and you need a break again, just say the word. We'll take that trip to Vegas to unwind."

"I got you. Thanks."

But of course it wasn't Duncan and the work that had me distracted. It was the dream. Sookie again. A face, a name that felt so familiar. A life I couldn't shake and it had kept me distracted. I'd doze off and there she'd be and always behind her, next to that distraction was Willow and the soft slope of her mouth, those damn lips. She'd fallen asleep on my sofa after that cat rescue fiasco and the memory of her laying next to me, hair scattered like leaves all over my leather sofa, had kept me stunned stupid.

There was a problem now and it had long chestnut hair and full, sweet lips. I knew that because last night while I avoided Sookie and that damn dream, sipping a beer on the roof deck, staring at nothing, at everything, Willow slipped into the seat next me like she'd known I'd be there. Like I'd invited her.

"There's no wind," she'd said, her voice so low and soft I jumped when she spoke. My senses were out of whack, my instinct dulled because I'd gotten little sleep.

"No, I guess there isn't."

We'd sat there for nearly ten minutes, just watching the purple sky, staring up at the white dots of lights nearly visible above the smog in complete silence. I'd even passed over my beer and Willow drank from it, like it had been the most natural thing in the world to sit next to me, drinking my beer. It had felt natural. But when that realization hit me, all of a sudden I got flooded in worry and confusion.

"I'm … I still can't sleep." That admission had left my mouth without much thought. That happened so damn much when Willow was around. Like being with her came with the permission to unload things I'd never tell anyone else. Except maybe Natalie.



       
         
       
        

She'd stopped mid-sip when I'd said that, holding the bottle just in front of her mouth with two fingers as she'd glanced at me, eyes a little wide, curious. But then she finished her sip and handed the bottle back, and I noticed that her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

"Sorry, but I can't help you." That'd surprised me. I hadn't expected her to dismiss me like that, when normally she was the one pulling me in kicking and screaming. In fact, putting together her red eyes with how subdued she was, and with how pale she seemed, made me wonder if maybe Willow had caught my insomnia. She damn well didn't look like she'd been sleeping much.

"What's going on with you?" I'd asked, gently. Or so I thought.

When she wouldn't look at me directly, instead seeming to concentrate on the sky sliding from purple to dusk, I'd leaned forward, setting down the bottle between us so I could catch her gaze.

"I'm tired," she finally said when she'd glanced away from the sky to look at me. "I'd be no good at trying to cleanse you again because I haven't been sleeping much either."

"You got a mondo cupcake gig or something?"

"Yes." She moved back, laying down against the wooden lawn chair identical to the one I sat in. Her hair had fanned out in a brown frizzy bundle and slipped through the slats opened in the back of the chair. "Or something. But even when I'm not working, even when I'm bone tired, I still can't sleep. Normally baking relaxes me, I've always made cookies or brownies or something when I'm distracted, mad or worried. Now I'm … it's no good. I'm too … distracted." She stared back out at the horizon.

In the moonlight, even as pale as she had been-maybe because she was so pale-Willow looked like she glowed, like some wild child angel with her own aura buzzing around her pretty face and curvy body. Out of the stillness, a breeze finally rose up, meandering around us, and I caught the scent of jasmine coming from her skin and hair. Without thinking, I leaned closer, on my side, to get a better look at her, not understanding why I had the sudden urge to reach down and kiss her.

But my motion made the chair scratch against the roof deck and the noise brought Willow's attention back to me, which totally threw me off, like I had been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to. Not like she noticed, but still.

"You look tired, Nash. I'm … I'm so sorry." Willow reached for my face, like it was usual, natural, something she'd always done. She drew her fingertips along my bottom lip, a slow, steady trace, nearly touching my bottom lip and I hadn't wanted her to stop.