I took a deep breath and sat up, scooting to the far side of the bed so I wouldn’t be near him. “Ashton, just get in the bed,” I instructed.
One of his dark eyebrows rose in question. “Huh?”
I sighed deeply, trying to keep my nerves under control. “Look, just get in the bed, okay? I’m not letting you sit awake all night because I’m some kind of freaking psycho. If you want to stay in here so I don’t dream about him, then fine, but you’re not sitting in the chair all night,” I said sternly. He looked completely unsure; his wary expression told me that he thought I’d lost my mind. “Let’s just give it a try, okay? If I can’t handle it then I’ll let you know, but this just seems to be a good solution – one that involves us both getting some sleep,” I encouraged, patting the empty side for him to get in.
“But I really wanted to know if Bella gets killed,” he whined jokingly.
I rolled my eyes. “She’s in the next three books if that gives you a clue,” I retorted, laughing.
He gasped and looked at me with mock horror. “I can’t believe you just ruined the end for me!” He moved and sat on the bed slowly, still watching my face.
I laughed. “Right, sorry about that, Pretty Boy.” I settled myself on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as I could get without falling out.
He lay down on top of the sheets cautiously, watching my face the whole time. “You sure this is okay? I mean, I don’t mind staying awake,” he offered.
“Just stop would you? It’s fine.”
He grinned and reached over, turning off my bedside light so that darkness cloaked my room. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay in control of myself. It was weird being in a bed with him. He didn’t move. In fact, he lay so still that I could barely tell he was there, apart from hearing his breathing. The sound was comforting somehow. He was lying as far away from me as he could get, on top of the sheets so that I was pinned underneath. I had the distinct impression that he was trying not to move in case he scared me. After a while, I rolled onto my side trying to see if he was awake or asleep, but it was too dark.
“You okay?” he whispered, making me jump.
Okay, well he’s awake, that answers that question! “I’m fine, Pretty Boy,” I promised. The mattress moved slightly, and the outline of his figure shifted as he rolled to his side too. My body started to react to him being so close to me – but not in the way I was expecting it to. My stomach got a little fluttery and I started to feel nervous. I wondered if he was going to touch me. A small part of me actually pondered what it would feel like if he did.
“Why do you call me pretty boy?” he asked quietly. I gulped as his fingers touched the back of my hand that was gripped on the edge of the sheets. For some reason though, I didn’t flinch away from him. This must have encouraged him as his hand closed over mine, loosening my fist from the sheets and weaving his fingers through mine.
I smiled weakly into the darkness. “You don’t really look like a tough guy, you’re more of a pretty boy,” I answered.
A soft chuckle came from his direction. “You don’t think I’m a tough guy?”
I chuckled too. “Well, when I first met you I would have said no, but after last night when you came in with your gun, I’d say you were definitely badass,” I admitted.
“So I’m only badass with a gun?” he replied sarcastically.
“Yeah, you’re more like a male model, slash, badass,” I joked, squeezing his hand gently to show I was just joking.
He chuckled and pulled on my hand, making my body move closer to his. I swallowed my nervousness, but there was still a large gap between us, I just wasn’t on the edge of the bed anymore. “There, that’s better, you said you like to sleep in the middle of the bed,” he said, sounding satisfied. His thumb traced along the jagged scar that lined the inside of my wrist where I’d run the razor across when I’d woken up at Carter’s house the day after my sixteenth birthday. The scar was mirrored on my other arm too. Unfortunately for me, my attempt was thwarted back then so I’d had to endure my time with Carter, and everyday without Jack after.
“Goodnight, Anna.”
“Night.”
He didn’t move again after that. I laid there, straining my eyes in the darkness to try and make him out, but to no avail. Half an hour later, the snoring started. I giggled, chewing on my lip, listening to the sound rumble through his chest. I closed my eyes, feeling something that I hadn’t felt since my sixteenth birthday. I felt safe. The sound of his snoring followed me into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter Seven
When I woke in the morning, I was pinned down onto the mattress. Panic surged through me until I heard the soft snore and realised it was Ashton. I was on my back, and he was lying half on his side with his other half on me, his arm and leg slung casually over me and his face buried in the crook of my neck.
A quick glance at the alarm clock told me it was almost eleven thirty in the morning. I’d never slept in this late in my life, well, not without a substantial hangover anyway. Ashton moved slightly, his hand cupped the side of my head as his face nuzzled into my neck, making a sleepy moaning sound. I smiled and poked him in the ribs roughly.
He grunted and jerked up, frowning at me through sleepy, half open eyes. His nose scrunched up as he regarded me with clear confusion for a split second before his eyes widened. He gasped and jumped out of the bed so fast that he almost fell on his butt.