“That’s not the nine I want.”
“Well, Wyatt,” she said tiredly. “We did it your way for the last decade, and look where it landed us. I’m not asking for much. Just your friendship. You owe me.”
Wyatt was shaking now…or shivering? On a whim, Harper rested her hand on his taut back muscles. His skin was cold as ice. She hated Arabella. It should be the queen’s ashes on the front porch right now. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talking doesn’t help.”
“You can talk or you can get under the covers.”
A long snarl rattle Wyatt’s chest, but after a few minutes, he slipped under the comforter.
“Night,” she murmured.
“Night.”
Minutes of silence dragged on, but just as her eyelids grew heavy, Wyatt asked, “Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for…you know.”
She didn’t know. For coming here, or helping him fight the vampires? Was he thanking her for not leaving? He could mean any or all of it, but her answer was still the same. “Anytime.”
Chapter Five
Harper cracked her eyes open and blinked against the early morning light that filtered through the single curtain-less window. Wyatt’s arm was heavy across her hip, and his breath tickled the back of her neck. She took stock of her body. There were three pillows on the floor thrown up against the closet door, and the only remaining one was under her cheek. Sometime in the night, he’d mucked up her nest and chucked the pillows between them at the wall.
And that boner Wyatt joked about last night? He took morning wood to a whole new level. There was basically a tree trunk against her spine right now. His leg was thrown over hers, trapping her, and his forehead was resting against the back of her head. She could almost feel his lips on the back of her neck. Warmth pooled deep in her belly.
A hundred times they’d slept like this when they were kids when he would slip through her window late at night, or she would sneak out to the tree house they used to play in. He was a sleep cuddler. How could she have forgotten something so huge? Now the memories were so bright. She frowned. He needed affection, and so did his bear, so the reasons for him being rogue made even less sense now. He should’ve found a crew immediately after leaving Saratoga, but here he was, ten years later, still alone.
Wyatt let off a little sleep sound and rolled his hips against her back as he pulled her closer. But friends didn’t let friends rub their boners on each other, so Harper wiggled out from under his grasp.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” he murmured in a hoarse voice. Wyatt sat straight up in bed as she rifled through her duffle bag. He scrubbed his hands down his facial scruff. “Look, I told you not to sleep in my bed. This is why I don’t let women stay over.”
Something green and ugly slithered around in her gut at the mention of other women, but she hid her face carefully and feigned an epic search for the pair of jeans at the bottom of her bag. Wyatt let off a muttered curse, and when she gave him her attention again, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her, running his hand through his hair slowly like he used to do when he was lost in thought. “This wasn’t how I wanted to see you again.”
“You said that last night.”
“And I meant it. I had these plans. I wasn’t supposed to be like this when you came here.”
With a sigh, Harper sat on the bed, nice and far away from Sex Pot Wyatt.
His back muscles flexed with the movement of his hand over his hair, but something else caught her attention. He had bruising that stretched from his scarred neck all the way down his shoulder blade.
“Geez,” she murmured, crawling over to him. She touched the purple discoloring softly, and Wyatt tensed.
She flinched away, but determined, she pressed her palm against his warm, bruised skin again. Wyatt blew out a long breath, and his tension seemed to disappear with it. He relaxed little by little under her hand. Slowly, Harper wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against the strong planes of his back. “Promise me you won’t let her do this to you again.”
Wyatt huffed a breath and shook his head. His hand slipped over hers, as if he wanted her to stay. “If it happens again, it won’t be my choice.”
She didn’t miss that he’d denied her his promise, though.
He slipped out of her grasp and headed into the bathroom, then shut the door behind him, leaving Harper’s arms tingling with a chill where he’d taken his warmth.
The Unrest took her so fast, she didn’t have time to get away from the edge of the bed. The buzzing in her blood doubled her over and pain shot through her middle. She hit the ground beside the bed hard. She tucked her knees to her chest and stared at the blue bed skirt, desperate to stay awake. Sometimes it was bad like this.
“Harper!” Wyatt was holding her now, but his voice sounded so far away.
She felt like her hand was frozen around an electric fence. Everything hurt. Every cell was exploding, every vein bursting, every muscle burning. Can’t breathe!
Wyatt hugged her close and rested his cheek against hers. Lips against her ear, he said, “It’s okay. I’m here.” I’m here. A tear streamed from the corner of her eye as her body relaxed from the seizure.
Warmth trickled down her lip, and when she looked up, Wyatt didn’t seem scared like she’d expected. He was calm. His eyes were subdued as though he’d been through a hundred of these with her.