The Right Kind of Reckless by Heather Van Fleet

Author:Heather Van Fleet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2017-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Max

Somewhere between pizza and a bottle of Boone’s Farm, Lia and I had fallen asleep.

I’d barely been able to concentrate on whatever movie she’d picked off Netflix. Between my throbbing hip—the one I’d gotten after I fell off her futon—to my forever raging hard-on, I was a mess. Luckily sleep had won out, giving me a little reprieve.

She stirred against my side, and I immediately opened my eyes. I wasn’t one to sleep soundly. At least, not since my time in Afghanistan. We’d always have to be on alert back then, and some habits a man couldn’t change.

It was still dark out, no telling what time, but I knew we hadn’t been out long. She got up and sat on the edge of the futon. For some reason or another, she was shaking, her head buried in her palms. Not wanting her to know I was awake, I stayed still and watched her, keeping a healthy distance. Lia said she didn’t wanna be rescued, but I wasn’t sure how far that went.

An advertisement danced across the TV screen, and the rumble of a thunderstorm echoed in the distance. Occasionally a flash of lightning lit up the room, showing the hourglass outline of her waist. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. She’d told me her preference was to sleep naked, and I wasn’t going to complain. A beautiful, unclothed Lee-Lee was my new favorite thing in the world.

A few minutes passed until she finally stood, wearing nothing but those tiny panties. I wanted to reach out for her, pull her close, but decided at the last minute not to. I wasn’t really sure why she was up, or upset. A bad dream, maybe? I could relate.

She headed out of the room, gone for a few minutes. I heard the water in the kitchen sink run and figured she was getting a drink.

Eventually she came back, in time for a loud thunderclap to echo in the room. She squeaked at the noise, running toward the futon, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry.” She sat next to me, curling back under the blankets and against my chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I snuggled closer, wrapping my hand around her warm waist and settling my chin on her shoulder from behind. The futon was uncomfortable as hell, but the discomfort was worth it to be close to her. “You afraid of a little thunderstorm?”

Quiet filled the air. She didn’t respond. I frowned, leaning up on one elbow so I could look at her face.

Her eyes were open, unfocused on the ceiling. “Terrified, actually.”

Another flash of lightning. I put my hand on her cheek and pulled her face toward mine. “Wanna talk about it?”

A shrug. “It rained that night.”

I fisted my hands. “In college.”

“Yeah,” she whispered with a nod, her gaze now locked with mine. “I remember my roommate telling me not to go. That it was supposed to get bad outside.”

I didn’t remember much about that night, other than finding her, carrying her out, and then taking her straight to the hospital.

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