Thoughtful(53)

I slowly felt myself relaxing into the mattress. Kiera was still asleep, and she was thinking about me. Me. It amazed and mystified me that I was in her thoughts, and I wondered what she was dreaming about. I felt lighter than air as my heart started pounding for another reason. Her saying my name, thinking about me while she slept, almost gave me a bigger buzz than the sex had. And I knew, without a doubt in my head, that I could fall asleep with her in my arms every night and be completely happy. And that thought scared the crap out of me, because on the flip side, I knew I would be completely miserable without her.

So what were Kiera and I now? I had no clue. I didn’t have a clue about anything anymore. All I knew was that for a long time now, I had cared about Kiera in a way I shouldn’t have cared about her. And tonight, I’d done something with her that would kill my friend if he ever found out. Over or not, Kiera was off-limits to me because of him. I’d known that, and I’d screwed her anyway. I was a horrible person.

As I pondered the word “screw,” my insides churned with distaste. That word wasn’t right. We hadn’t just gotten drunk and fucked. At least, I hadn’t. My soul had been in that act. Being with her meant everything to me. She meant everything to me. The way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she listened to my music, the way she looked at me with so much compassion, like she understood my pain even if she didn’t know what it was. Everything about her took my breath away.

I looked down at her nestled under my arm. Her mouth was slightly open as she slept. Her eyes twitched like she was still in the midst of dreaming. I wanted her to say my name again. I wanted her to still be thinking about me. I hoped I was on her mind, since she was the only thing on mine. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to help her grow. I wanted what she had…with Denny.

Shit. Denny. Where did he fit into all of this? I’d selfishly shoved him aside so I could take what I wanted. I’d gone against his one request of me. A wave of guilt crashed over me while my brain settled back into reality, and I couldn’t help but think of the times he’d been there for me…I was a fucking asshole. He would never forgive me for this. I was going to lose him. And for what? Did Kiera care about me at all?

Almost like she’d heard my thoughts, Kiera turned away from me. She flipped over onto her stomach, and a chill washed over me with her absence. My eyes drifted over her bare back; the skin there was smooth, creamy, and perfect. She was perfect. I considered pulling her into my arms again, but my mind had begun to spin, and now it was churning. I couldn’t get a handle on the multiple jarring thoughts beating against my brain. What had I just done?

You just had sex with the woman who’s been on your mind every second of every day, a woman who is in love with your best friend, a best friend who you owe everything to, a best friend who you just stabbed in the back by sleeping with “the love of his life” five seconds after they broke up. That’s what you just did.

“Shut up,” I muttered to myself. I didn’t want to lose this high by letting reality in. All I wanted to do was dwell on this feeling pounding against my rib cage, vibrating through my head. I felt completely plastered as I lay next to Kiera, but it wasn’t alcohol that was making me feel this way. No, it wasn’t tequila that was making my chest light, my head giddy. Alcohol wasn’t filling me with the need to smile, laugh, and clutch Kiera tight. I was completely drunk…on her.

But did that mean anything for us? Were we even an us? Or was it still her and me? Completely separate.

The sheet was low on Kiera, exposing most of her body. I really wanted to lean down and place kisses between her shoulder blades, rest my cheek on the small of her back, pull her close to my body. I was scared to wake her up though. What would she say when she regained consciousness? That what we’d done was a mistake? That she was still in love with Denny? That she was going to leave the house? Or…would she say the impossible? That she cared about me, and she wanted to be with me?

No, that was highly unlikely. No woman I’d ever slept with had actually cared about me. Not like that. Most likely, all that had happened was Kiera had been sad, and I had cheered her up. End of story.

But…the way she looked at me sometimes. The way she held me. The way she kissed me on the cheek, then blushed. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Ever. She was always on my mind. God, I just wanted her to care about me. I didn’t want to be the only one feeling this. I cared about her so much. I loved her so much.

Whoa. Back the fuck up. I loved her? Did I even know what that meant?