Hope(less)
Page 51
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The air grew colder and snow started to fall the week before Thanksgiving. The wind howled outside, still finding a way past the new windows. Despite the low-set thermostat, the heat kicked in often, and I worried about the bill. Even with Clay warming my feet, I’d added another quilt to the bed.
Broke and out of quilts, I lay under the covers, shivering. I wore two pairs of lounge pants, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. If I could just fall asleep, I knew I’d warm eventually. During the night, I usually stripped to one layer. But warming the bed took forever...on my own.
“Screw this,” I said, sitting up. I started pulling off my sweatshirt. The streetlight filtered through the curtains, so I could make out the shapes in my room. I tossed the sweatshirt toward the closet.
Clay lifted his head, tilting it just so.
I ignored him for the moment and shimmied out of my second layer of pants while trying to stay under the covers. The pants soared through the air and landed next to the shirt.
“Clay, will you keep me warm tonight?” I’d barely whispered the words when he jumped off the bed.
A moment later, he pulled back the covers and joined me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. Bare chest. I sighed, pressed my face against his skin, warming my cold nose, and wrapped my free arm around his waist. Then, I tucked my feet under his calves. He grunted slightly but didn’t loosen his hold.
“No more fur at night. Deal?”
The blankets and his chest muffled my voice, but I knew he heard me. He kissed the top of my head, the only part exposed. I smiled, figuring it meant yes.
The next morning my cell phone rang, waking me. Still wrapped in Clay’s warmth, I didn’t move right away. He reached over me, plucked it from the bedpost, and handed it to me. Only Sam and Rachel had my number.
I could hear movement in the house and looked at the display, expecting Sam’s number. Instead, it was one I didn’t recognize.
I answered with a questioning, “Hello?”
“Gabby, I found her, but...”
“Luke?” I hadn’t heard from him since we’d left the Compound.
“Yes. I understand you think she’s important, but she’s not even eighteen. How am I supposed to get her to come with me?”
I sat up excitedly and knocked back the covers in the process, exposing both Clay and me to the cool air. Clay grunted a complaint.
“I can’t believe you actually found her! I need to talk to her. If she’s like me, which I think she is, you had better bring her to the Compound. I hate to admit it, but the Elders need to know.”
“Fine. You better be there when we get there,” he said with an edge. The line went dead.
I pulled the phone from my ear to look at it, puzzled. Luke never had an edge. Slowly, I grinned. Had I been right? Was he now dealing with his potential Mate? Smiling hugely, I hoped she gave Mr. Confident a little hell.