Those lashes swept down and then back up. “Morning.”
My pulse was thrumming. His arm was still around me, more relaxed, but there. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep out here.”
“I didn’t mind.” Those eyes were half-open now, and the fingers along my back were moving up and down in short, slow strokes.
“Really?”
“Not at all. It was nice.”
My heart was now pitter-pattering like a happy little fool. “I liked it, too. I think I got the best sleep I’ve had in days.”
“Same.” He turned his head, yawning like a lion. “It’s good having a sleeping buddy.”
Sleeping buddy? Like a stuffed animal?
That tripped the pitter-patter. My heart fell on its stupid face, and a part of me was happy. Because it should know better.
Why was I thinking of my heart as something outside me that I had no control over?
I needed help.
I also needed to get up. “I’m thirsty,” I announced, because why not?
Pulling back, I rolled onto my side just as Zayne lifted his arm and started to sit up. He shifted, and the sudden change of weight on the cushion sent me tumbling into him. Zayne froze as our bodies lined up in all the very interesting parts that emphasized the vast difference between the soft and hard areas.
My entire face flushed as I attempted to roll away from him. My hip brushed a very sensitive area. “I’ll just—” I jerked and, somehow, that just made it worse, because Zayne groaned “—get up and—”
“Can you just stop moving for a second?” Zayne’s hand landed on my hip, his voice raspy. “Just be still. Okay?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing under my breath, and did as he suggested. I took a breath and then rocketed to my feet without rubbing myself all over him like an alley cat on ecstasy. Face burning, I stepped away from the couch.
“Sorry about that,” Zayne muttered. “Especially if it made you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s okay.” Uncomfortable was not a word I’d use. At least not in the way he was insinuating. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was sitting up, and I kept my gaze north of his shoulders. “I mean, it’s no big deal. I know how guys get in the morning.”
Zayne looked at me, brows raised as his lips twitched. “You do?”
“Of course.” I forced a laugh. “You don’t need to be a part of the dick brigade to know that.”
“Dick brigade?” He bit down on his lower lip. “All right then.”
Feeling like I could’ve kept that to myself, I smiled tightly and crossed my arms. “I’ll get changed and we can get started on training.” I was proud of how steady and unaffected my voice sounded. “Unless you want to eat something first?”
Zayne picked up his phone, swearing under his breath. “I have to hop in the shower and get out of here in, like, thirty minutes or I’m going to be late.”
“Late...?” I trailed off.
“I told you yesterday I have some things to take care of today.” He rose and started around the couch, his movements somewhat stiff. “Remember?”
Now that he mentioned it, I did. “I forgot. What do you have to do?”
“Just a few things.” He headed for the bedroom, keeping his back to me. “It’ll probably take a couple of hours, but I should be back in time for us to work in some training.”
My arms unfolded slowly. Why was he being so vague? I took a step forward as I opened my mouth, but snapped it shut as I remembered what Zayne had said last night.
There’s a lot you don’t know.
If Zayne wanted me to know, he’d tell me, and if he didn’t, then I needed to engage in a little mind your own business.
I hated minding my own business.
“But what are you—” I heard the bathroom door click shut. “Okay. I’ll just wait out here while you take your ten-year-long shower and then I’ll just wait here all afternoon until you’re done doing whatever it is that you’re doing.”
There was no response.
Obviously.
I let my head fall back and groaned, “Ugh.”
“Yeah.”
Squeaking, I whipped around and saw Peanut by the kitchen island. He nodded.
“You guys are as awkward as getting caught picking your nose. You should work on that.”
I sighed. “Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for.”
“You’re welcome.” He gave me a thumbs-up with half his arm transparent. “And by the way—a dude in the shower for that long, after waking up in the morning? What do you think he’s doing? Washing his hair twice and deep conditioning with Herbal Essences? Uh, no.”
“I...” My eyes widened. “Oh. Oh.”
“Let him live his best life.” Peanut vanished.
My gaze flew to the bedroom, and my imagination ran wiiild for about 10.3 seconds. Then, because there was nothing else to do, I walked to the couch and face-planted it.
* * *
“‘When you was young, you never needed anyone,’” Peanut sang from somewhere in the apartment.
I needed to do laundry. I guessed I could do that this afternoon since I was—
“‘All by yourself.’” Peanut came through the bedroom wall and continued singing about me—or someone—being alone and insecure and unable to see love.
I blinked slowly. “You’re a jerk.”
“‘But you’re all by yourself!’” he sang back to me, disappearing through the wall.
I’d been all by myself since Zayne left about thirty minutes ago, off to do stuff, and I had no idea what to do with my afternoon. It was the first free time I’d had since I’d come here.
Twisting my hair into a topknot, I turned toward the open bedroom door. “Hey, Peanut, you still here?”
“Yeah,” he called back. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“That spirit last night—did he say anything to you?”
“Besides referring to me as Casper?” Peanut blinked into existence in the doorway. “No. He was just poking around the apartment like he belonged here.”
“That’s weird.” I glanced at the messy bed, frowning. “I guess he saw me outside and followed me here.”
“Then why did he freak out when he realized you could see him?”
That was a good question, but even if ghosts and spirits could sense I could communicate with them, they were often surprised when I confirmed it. When ghosts and spirits experienced acute emotion, they tended to lose their connection with the consciousness that allowed them to take shape and be seen.
Well, there was nothing I could do now about last night’s strange visitation. Instead, I checked the washer, which was stacked above the dryer in one of the linen closets. After switching my clothes to dry, I looked around the room, my gaze settling on the tinted windows.
I wanted to go outside. To roam. To explore. To be out there with people. To watch and see, before...
Before I couldn’t see anymore.
I crossed my arms as indecisiveness filled me. I’d been out there enough times with Zayne that I was pretty confident I could find my way around without getting seriously lost, but considering my eyeballs, getting lost was a scary thing to think about. I’d have to rely on strangers to help me read street signs or my phone, if I used one of those map apps, and people were, well, not always helpful to those in need.
But I could walk at least a couple of blocks, if not a little more. I could do it.
My stomach dropped precariously the moment that thought finished. I started nibbling on my thumbnail. Just last night I’d told Zayne that I wanted to be independent, needed to be, and yet here I was, afraid to go out by myself.
Maybe I should check out that girl Peanut had been visiting. That seemed a more important and easier thing to do. But I needed to get ready first. Whipping around, I headed for the bathroom and took a ten-year-long shower. As I wrapped a towel around me, a text alert pinged from my phone. I shuffled back into the bedroom, where it was charging on the nightstand, and picked it up. Not recognizing the number, I opened the text.
It’s me, your friendly neighborhood Demon Prince. I’m about to call you.
My lips parted in surprise. Roth, the actual Crown Prince of Hell, had texted me.
Was there some kind of universal Hell and Heaven phone book? Because I doubted Zayne had given him my number.
Obviously, I didn’t have a problem with Roth, but tiny knots filled my stomach with uncertainty as I stared at the phone.
It suddenly rang in my hand, startling me. I answered with a cautious “Hello?”
“Zayne’s not there, right?” was Roth’s greeting.
My brows pinched as I moseyed back into the bathroom. “No, he’s not here. Are you trying to get ahold of him?”
“No.”
Then why had he asked about Zayne?
“You busy?” he asked.
“Uh...” I looked around as if I’d find my answer there while I clutched the two halves of the towel together. Were Stacey and Layla hanging out again, and Roth was once more bored and in need of company? “Not particularly. You?”
There was a deep, rasping chuckle. “About to be. So are you.”
“I am?”
“Yes. I’m coming to pick you up. We now have plans.”
“We do?” I blinked once and then twice at my fuzzy reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I just got out of the shower.”