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Thirty Five

I was asleep, passed out on Rogue's couch after a failed attempt at waiting for him. I didn't tell him I was coming over to see him. Actually, I never planned anything out. I just found myself being restless and unable to go on another day without talking to him. I guess this was what love was—feeling restless with the need to see that important person in your life. That was how I felt, especially after the way we parted. I came here to tell him that I wasn't scared anymore. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to walk around with my hand in his.

I didn't text him to tell him I was waiting for him at home; maybe that was why I slept off. The last time I took a peek at the clock, it was almost midnight. I was tired and weak. I was bound to doze off in the comfortable position I was in.

Turning around on the couch, the sound of my phone falling to the hard floor was what woke me up. My eyes fluttered open and I twisted around to pick it up when I found Rogue sitting on the coffee table, watching me–lips parted in a sexy smile and hazel eyes pinned on mine. I was suddenly awake, the remnants of sleep leaving my eyes.

He hadn't changed yet; he was still in his navy suit and his briefcase still laid beside him. He had both hands on his knees and I could tell he had been sitting there for quite some time. I scrambled to sit and rubbed my eyes, instantly feeling calm and wide awake. It was still dark outside, so he hadn't spent the night outside then.

Rogue grabbed my hand, swallowing it in his own as my attention drifted to his face. "How did you sleep? Good?"

"Yeah," I replied. "When did you get here? And what time is it?"

"Late enough to spend the night here." A smile, two steps, and he was seated next to me. That smile made my heart thump the way it did the first time I saw him. A second after that, my lips were pressed against his cheek, my hands buried in his hair.

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on leaving anyway."

"Hmm," he mumbled. Despite my best smile, he didn't trust that I wouldn't walk out. Despite his best efforts, I could tell lunch was still on his mind. He added in a smooth, deep voice, "That's the only time you allow yourself to be with me. I can't say nighttime isn't my favorite time." His hand was on my thigh but it didn't move, almost as if to assure me that his remark was light.

"You sound happy, but you don't exactly look it," I noted.

He tossed me a grin. "Oh?"

I sighed, shifting around on the couch and tucked my legs under me. "You're surface happy, Rogue. You don't have to pretend. We both know you'd rather put some distance between us—at least until you're not annoyed with me, which I know will happen tomorrow. You will wake up and you will forget what happened, but I will still feel on edge."

When I sat there tense and silent for too long, Rogue finally replied, "Why?"

"Because I hate that I'm putting you through this. Being with you...all I want is to take away all the pain you've been through and I promised you that. I was so worried about what other people might say about us that I forgot the one who matters is you. How you feel matters more than how they feel."

He made a soft sound and dropped his hand from my lap, turning onto his back to gaze up at the ceiling. Panic flared inside my chest, burning hot. I wrapped my arms around my legs and hugged them to myself, watching him.

"You were right," I added after a beat. "I'm selfish and I didn't realize what this meant to you. By trying to hide this relationship, I'm pouring more salt into your wounds. I said I was going to help, but I didn't try. You hid away from everyone and when I suggested hiding our relationship, I didn't consider how this could affect you. I'm sorry."