VI. C L O S E C A L L

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s t e l l a n

Stellan woke the next morning tangled in sheets and limbs. He lifted his head, careful not to disturb the brunette curled around him. She was still fast asleep, her legs wrapped around his beneath the covers and her arms above her head like a starfish. He smiled sleepily. Gently, Stellan brushed the hair off of her cheek with his fingertips. It felt like silk, the freshly chopped ends soft and smooth, like her skin.

Her eyelids fluttered open at his touch and her caramel-cocoa eyes met his, a sleepy smile crossing her face. "Morning, Stellan," she murmured, and when she looked down at the tangle of their legs under the sheet, her cheeks turned pink. She cleared her throat and sat up against the headboard, untangling her legs from his. "Sorry," she said, biting her lip. "Apparently I'm sort of a bed hog." She gestured to the large mattress. "I mean, all this room, and I have to be right up on you." Her cheeks flushed deeper.

Stellan shook his head. "I don't mind," he said. In fact, he preferred to be close to her. "Did you sleep okay?"

She nodded and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. "I did, actually... better than I have in years, if you want to know the truth," she said, reaching down and fooling with a loose stitch on the sheet.

"Glad I wasn't the only one," he murmured. He pulled back the covers, stretched, and gazed out the window. It should have been odd—sleeping next to a near stranger and feeling perfectly fine about it. But the streets raised Stellan, and he had quickly learned that a safe place to sleep was something to be cherished.

Just like the girl who sang him to sleep last night.

Everly shifted next to him, and her bare toes brushed against his calf. He felt goosebumps rise along his skin, and he swallowed hard.

"What's the plan for the day?" she asked, completely unaware of the sensation she'd just ignited within him.

Stellan cleared his throat. "I figure we can keep on west," he pondered. "But first, there's complimentary breakfast!" He stood and pulled a shirt on—a new one from the pack he had bought. It was black and fitted, but loose enough to move in. Stellan felt good.

Everly grinned and jumped up. "Food? Yes. I'll be ready in two seconds." She squatted down in front of the Target bags on the floor, her pajama pants riding low and her shirt drifting up on her back, revealing a set of angel wings in the center of her back, delicate and perfectly symmetrical.

Stellan's eyes widened.

"No way," he deadpanned. When she turned to look at him, he could see the realization in her eyes as to what she had just accidentally revealed.

Her cheeks burned as she pulled her shirt down over her waistband. "Shit. You saw that." He just looked at her and she rolled her eyes. "I know, I know... I have a tramp stamp. Couldn't be more cliche... but I did it when I was eighteen. Just because I could. I wanted to show my dad he couldn't control everything I did. So I got it in the worst possible place." She shook her head. "I got punished for that one... but it was worth it to see the look on his stupid face."

Stellan burst into laughter. He couldn't help himself, it was just so... her.

He could easily picture her sneaking off to do such a thing. He wondered how she reacted to the needle. Did she shed a tear? Or did she take it like a champ?

"Don't laugh," Everly exclaimed, tossing a shoe at him, which only made him laugh harder.

"I'm not laughing at you, I swear!" he managed to say between fits. "It's just..." He lost it again.

She snorted and shook her head and started to walk past him to the bathroom with her clothes in her hand. She was almost past him when she dropped the shirt and pants into the desk chair.

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