Still wrapped in just her towel, Shyla went onto her terrace to breathe in the evening air. Evening may not be the right word, last she’d looked at the clock, it was approaching midnight.
Closing her eyes, she held the rail and inhaled. Score would be with her. Whatever Mick threw at them, Score would take care of it. Focusing on that idea, she came to realize that it wasn’t Mick she was worried about. Score was the one making her anxious. In such an emotional setting, surrounded by memories of Stan, she was likely to lose control. He’d see her crazy and that could be enough to put him off.
Shyla tried to tell herself that it wouldn’t happen. That he wouldn’t break ties with her if she got emotional, but she just didn’t know.
To the side of where she stood, light burst onto the terrace. The neat rectangle could only have come from one place: Score’s room.
She went to the window just in time to see him pull his tee-shirt off over his head. When he was free of it, he spotted her, so she lifted her hand in a static wave.
He came over to slide the door open. “What you doing out there like that?”
“I wanted to breathe for a minute,” she said, aware of how close they were. Though while on opposing sides of the doorway, there was a clear line they shouldn’t cross. “Did you get the women you needed?”
He nodded. “I’m gonna take a shower, get some sleep.”
That could’ve been either a statement of his intent or an order for her to follow. “Don’t mind me,” she said in an attempt at a joke.
“You need your rest too. It’s after midnight.”
Shyla didn’t have the energy to seduce him and probably wouldn’t be worth much to him if he tried to close the deal.
“Okay,” she said, thinking about all the things she wanted to say.
That was her limit. Saying just one thing was beyond her ability. If she opened the floodgates, everything would come flowing out. Even the things definitely better kept to herself.
She retreated one step and then another. The way he was looking into her suggested he recognized something was on her mind. Already he was learning her moods and tells, yet she still felt completely at sea when it came to figuring him out.
Going to bed with Score in the room next to her wasn’t easy, especially knowing his door was open. One thought kept cropping up. Someday, if they lasted, he’d have to see her worked up in more than just a sexual way.
That was why when she eventually glanced at her clock and read it was two thirty, Shyla sat up and tossed her covers away. Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped worrying about Mick and started to worry about how long her relationship with Score could last if she hid parts of herself. He said he wanted to learn all of her and anxiety was a part of her. Not one of the most alluring parts, sure, but it existed.
Getting out of bed, she stalked out her bedroom, across the hallway and straight into Score’s room. Shyla didn’t even think about the rules or that it might anger him; she had something to say and she had to say it.
A lot of her agitation faded when confronting the sight of him in bed, sleeping on his front, the covers at his hips, just like on her first day there. Seeing him calmed her. She could’ve stayed there all night, just watching him sleep. She didn’t know how long she did stand there. It could’ve been a minute or an hour. One of his exhales was louder than the others; the sound snapped her out of her trance.
Climbing onto the bed on her feet and sinking down to sit at his side, she ran her fingers through his hair. Being close to him warmed her heart. She slid down onto her side and admired him while still combing her fingers through his hair.
He grumbled something, which made her smile. It didn’t make sense as words, but she found herself wondering if he talked in his sleep or if he snored. More questions swirled in her mind. Did he always sleep in the middle of the bed or did he have a preferred side? Understanding what he meant about intimacy that wasn’t sexual, she wriggled closer.
“Phoenix,” she whispered and subdued a laugh when he frowned. Even in his sleep he could be severe. “Baby?”
His breathing changed and his eyelids ascended a fraction, not much, just enough to check who was disturbing him.
“Lamb,” he groaned. “Go back to bed.”
“I want to talk to you,” she said, enjoying the sensation of his hair between her fingers.
“You hurt?”
Although she didn’t have any physical injuries, she glanced down at herself. “No.”
“In danger?”
So those were the only two acceptable reasons for her to intrude? He probably didn’t think she’d wake him for anything less.
“No. I’m worried about us.”
“We’re fine,” he mumbled, his eyes shut again.
“Yeah, but I’m worried about seeing Mick at Stan’s thing. I was obsessing about it, then I was obsessing about us because I didn’t want you to see me panicked. But you said you wanted to know everything about me. If we’re going to last, you’ll have to know that sometimes, I obsess about things.” She stopped talking in anticipation of a response. When one didn’t come, she edged closer. “Phoenix?”
“You’re obsessing… ‘bout what?”
“Mick is mean, and what if he’s mean to—”
“I’m meaner.”
“Yes, you are,” she said. “But I don’t want to get upset in front of him… or in front of you. Saying goodbye to Stan
