Part 9

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       The bed had been beyond comfortable, enveloping you as you struggled to sleep. Thoughts had flashed through your head most of the night, keeping you awake. After tossing and turning for the millionth time, you threw the covers back. Sighing in annoyance, you left your room, slipping quietly down the stairs, hoping that a glass of milk might help you get a couple hours of sleep. You didn't want dark circles under yours eyes when you had breakfast with his family.

"You're awake late," Jensen's gravely, sleep filled voice came from the top of the stairs. You jumped, almost spilling your glass of milk. Whipping around, you suddenly wished you had packed something besides your ratty AC DC t-shirt and short sleep shorts.

"Couldn't sleep," you told him, raising the glass up awkwardly. "Thought a glass of milk would help."

He chuckled. "Normally I go for something a little...stronger. Join me?" He asked, taking the glass of milk and setting it off to the side. Without waiting for me to answer, he grasped two crystal glasses, and the bottle of whiskey in his hands.

He led the way out of the kitchen, and outside on the patio. The Texas air was crisp against your skin, but you ignored it, wanting to spend time with Jensen. Sitting down on one of the plush patio chairs, he beckoned for you to take the other. "So...why couldn't you sleep?" You asked, taking the offered glass of whiskey, wishing you had brought a blanket out with you.

He stayed silent, swishing the whiskey around in his glass. The moon was full above him, giving off enough light you could see the frustrated expression on his face. Something was bugging him, but you weren't sure you would ever be able to get him to open up to you. "I was just thinking about the party," he finally started, taking a sip of the alcohol, the slight burn not even bothering him.

"Listen, if I didn't do something right, I'm sorry. This is just a weird position to be in, and I..," you started muttering, automatically assuming that it had something to do with you.

Jensen shook his head. "No, that's not it at all. You did great," he assured you. "Even better than I expected."

You breathed a sigh of relief, but you were still curious. However, you didn't wait long as he spoke up once again. "I couldn't help but notice how shaken up you were last night. Was it the proposal? Or did something else happen? I know my grandma can be a bit much."

"You're sweet," you said without thinking, watching as his eyes widened for a minute. "And I wasn't going to say anything, but we promised no secrets between us."

He took another sip of his whiskey, watching you carefully. Taking a deep breath, you told him everything. About your parents dying, your horrid aunt and uncle, and your poor little brother. Tears were streaming down your face as he continued to talk, relieved that you could finally talk to him about it.

Jensen stayed silent the entire time you talked, setting his empty whiskey glass down, giving you his full attention. As soon as you were done, he reached forward, tugging on your hand until you were perched on the wide chair with him. Wrapping his arm around you, he held you tight against his chest, and you let the tears fall.

His arms were warm against your chilled skin, his white t-shirt soft against your cheek. He stayed silent, his hand rubbing against your back as you let out all the frustration and fear that you had been holding in for so long.

"Feel better?" He finally asked after your tears had dried up. Hiccuping, you pulled away, wiping hastily at your eyes. "Sometimes a good cry is all we need."

You nodded. "Thanks for letting me vent. And I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner. I know it's an issue, but I promise I won't let it affect my job."

He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. "Let's get you inside, you're cold. Then we can talk."

Jensen's hands were gentle on your shoulder as he guided you back inside. Up the stairs, and as you turned towards your room, he shook his head. "You're upset, and I don't think it's right for you to be alone right now."

He pushed open the door to his room. It was twice the size of your room. A large, king sized bed with a leather headboard faced you. A dresser and chair were the only other furniture in the room, but you could see a modern bathroom off to your left. "It's not much, but I don't spend much time in here," he apologized, reaching for and pulling down the navy blue and silver comforter. IT didn't even look as if he had gone to bed yet. "Climb in."

You looked to him for guidance, but he was already on the other side of the bed, sliding in as well. Taking a deep breath, you slid in, the sheets soft and smooth against your skin, the mattress the most comfortable thing you had ever laid on. Staying as far as you could on your side, you laid there awkwardly.

"Come here," he muttered, pulling you against his chest, letting you snuggle against him. "I promise I won't bite."

"But we're strictly business," you mumbled, even though the feel of him against you was comforting and arousing at the same time. "I don't want to ruin things between us."

"Listen, I was a jerk," he grumbled. "I just didn't want you getting close to me. I've gotten pretty good at pushing people away. But I shouldn't have acted like that."

"It's alright," you yawned. "I understand."

He sighed, the movement raising his chest against your ear. "Listen, I want to help with your brother. This situation you're in really sucks. And I'm afraid once that your aunt and uncle hear about me, they're going to make an issue for us."

"What do you think I should do?" You asked, at a loss.

He stayed silent for a moment, his hand absently running against your arm. Moments passed by, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep when he spoke again. "Let's get married. For real. We can legally adopt your brother then. Get him somewhere safe."                                         

The Proposalजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें