Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(37)

"Sorry I didn't bring anything," I mumble. It's too much energy to enunciate. The food is making me even more sleepy than I already was.

"It's okay. Your company is enough," he says with a soft smile and then pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over me. I'm not cold, but the gesture is nice.

"I find that hard to believe, but thanks anyway," I say, yawning again. I lean over and pull my feet up on the couch under the blanket. It's not my fault. Rhett has a really comfortable couch.

"You can stay. If you want. Or you can take a nap and then go. Whatever you wanna do," he says before he takes our plates to the kitchen.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" I ask. He doesn't hear me, so I sit up and say it over the back of the couch.

Rhett looks up from the sink. A slow smile spreads on his face that melts my insides. I have to fight not to smile as well.

"Sure, the DVDs are in the cabinet under the TV and I have Netflix too." Curious to see what he's got for movies, I get up and open the cabinet.

Huh. Not what I expected. Well, some of what I expected, like Top Gun and other "dude movies" but he's got some classics here too. Hitchcock and even some older romantic comedies. Huh. I wouldn't have pegged him for that, but I've been so wrong about him already. I shouldn't be surprised at anything about him anymore.

Nothing calls to me, so I grab the remote and turn on the TV to see what's new on Netflix. This also gives me a chance to see what he's been watching.

Huh again.

Lot of documentaries. Intriguing.

Oh, jackpot. I pick the movie I want to watch and hope that he doesn't have a problem with it, because I will fight him, even if that would lead to my imminent demise.

Rhett comes back from doing the dishes with a bag of cookies.

"Do you want some tea or something?" I shake my head as he sets the cookies between us.

"Okay, what did you pick?" he says, and I click the remote.

He bursts out laughing.

"Mulan, really? That's what you picked? Out of everything?" I nod, daring him to challenge me.

"Okay, let's do this. But don't get mad if I sing along." I snort.

"I won't. Promise."

* * *

Apparently, Rhett is a Disney fan. Must be part of working with kids to have a working knowledge of any and all Disney movies. So he belts out A Girl Worth Fighting For as I watch him in awe. He's seen this movie more than a few times, by the looks of it. His singing voice is actually pretty good. I bet he does a killer Gaston impression. In fact, he kind of looks like Gaston. Only, you know, much more attractive. And not a raging asshole. 

I don't make it to the end of the movie. I don't know when I passed out, but I wake up and I have to blink and figure out where the hell I am. It takes a minute.

Sitting up, I realize I'm in Rhett's house, and it's probably pretty late. There's a note on the coffee table, scrawled in a rough hand that I know is his. The room is dark, except for a lamp on the little table next to the couch that he must have turned on.

You fell asleep before Mulan saved China. Don't worry, she did. If you wake up before morning, you're welcome to stay. I've gone to bed, but if you need anything, just wake me up. I don't mind. Oh, and I'm making pancakes tomorrow. If you're interested.

-Rhett



I read the note a few times and try to ignore the twisting in my stomach as I get up, fold the blanket, write a response to his note, grab my jacket and keys, and head out the door as quietly as I can.

I almost feel wrong for leaving Rhett's place, but that's ridiculous. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I would have left hours ago. It's not like we had sex and I'm sneaking out in the morning.

I'm not doing anything wrong. So why does it feel that way?

* * *

It's nearly two in the morning by the time I get back to my place, and I'm all wired up because I had a nap, so I decide to read for a while. It isn't working, because I've been on the same page for several minutes. I have no idea what it says, despite reading it several times. I sigh and close the book and get up to grab another.

After going through four books that don't grab my attention, I give up and just stare at the ceiling.

I can't stop thinking about Rhett. About how he moves when he cooks. About his smile. About the way he sang a Disney song without shame. About how he lets out a little sigh of relief when he catches me after a stunt.

He's just . . .

I groan.

He's getting to me. He really is. I need to focus on more important things. I have more important things in my life.

Finding my mother.

That's my top priority, and I've gotten steered away from it by a cloud of Rhett lust. I've got to get a handle on this before it gets out of control and I lose sight of why I came here. I didn't sacrifice everything I had in Texas just to get derailed from my goals by a hot boy.