A Little Bit Married

Hot and Cold

I wasn't sure how long I rested on Gray's shoulder, but I slowly started to doze off. The combined fatigue of everything seemed to be getting to me, and I just adjusted on him, my eyes closing a little tighter. Throughout, the only indication that he was even there was his steady heartbeat.

He simply let me rest on him, and to be honest, it was a little confusing for me. He felt like walking through lava while covered in an iceberg. I am not exactly sure how that would feel, but he felt both hot and cold. Both angry and compassionate? Would I say compassionate?

"Sleepy?" He said suddenly, breaking me out of the enchanting reverie of both my thoughts and a slowly descending sleep.

"I want to."

He didn't reply, but I felt him move slowly away from me. I started to lean away, thinking of how I might have crossed a boundary by trying to sleep on him. I had started to open my mouth to apologize before he suddenly leaned to me, one hand going under my knees, the other holding my back firmly.

I gave a small gasp, my hand resting right beneath his neck. He met my eyes, and I swallowed, biting down on my lips.

"I just... I just didn't expect that."

He raised a brow but didn't say a word as he went around the bed. I watched his face as he slowly got one knee on the bed, then gently put me down on it.

My eyes closed, but I could still feel him. I knew he wasn't gone yet, but I couldn't help it, and slowly opened my eyes to look up to him. He was pulling the covers, his body hovering above me. His eyes were focused on the covers and not me, and I let my eyes take all of him in.

I rarely got to see him under his own scrutiny, and it felt like I was given a pass to stare now.

He suddenly pulled the covers and looked up, his hands gently tucking me in. My eyes met his, and for a moment, I thought he would kiss me again.

I still don't know why he had kissed me the other day, and I wondered if he could possibly have the same reason now. He was right above me anyway, and to be honest, I don't think I would protest.

I swallowed, my eyes slowly falling to his lips. He had the perfect set of lips, and I hated how heated my insides got just thinking of how they had felt against mine just yesterday.

I wondered what he was thinking. Why he wasn't getting off me. What he now thought of me.

I slowly moved my fingers, then held on to the edge of the covers, pulling it up well over my chest. His eyes fell to the covers, and for a long second, he just watched it.

He suddenly gave a small laugh, his sharp canines coming into view. For some reason, I immediately felt light, seeing him that way. Seeing him laugh.

I don't think I have seen a genuine laugh on him. But to be honest, under the circumstances we had met and the things that had unfolded through the days we have been together, it is already a miracle on his part that he was here.

Maybe he was here because he was determined to forget Samantha, but it felt better than what I had envisioned at the altar.

"You should do that a lot more."

He raised a brow, then met my eyes again. "You should take your own advice, Angel."

"Angel?"

He shrugged, then got off me, his brows furrowing as he gently rubbed his wrists. "Get some sleep, and don't skip lunch. I will be back by dinner."

I nodded slowly, then watched as he walked away to the walk in closet. I lay there just watching the path in which he had disappeared, like I was expecting something else. What was I expecting? Stardust? Stars? Sparks?

He suddenly emerged again, and he was wearing a full black ensemble. Black button-down shirt and black pants, with black dressing shoes. His hair was well styled, and I watched him grab his phone and keys.

"Is there anything you want?"

He turned to me, his brows furrowed. "What?"

At least, I now knew the ice in his eyes had nothing to do with me and was simply by default. The mean, psychotic expression I had seen the first day was his default face. The way he looked when he probably wasn't feeling much. It made me wonder what he had felt during the entire wedding mishap.

He was angry, seeing how he wasn't accepting Samantha back, but was he hurt? What had been going on in his mind? And since he had the chance to stop her from leaving, why didn't he?

"What is it?" He asked again, and I shook my head so I could focus.

"I was asking if you wanted anything specific for dinner?"

His brows came together, and his eyes darted across a little. "And if I do?"

"I would cook it for you. I have always wanted to become a professional chef, so I took a lot of lessons. I couldn't afford culinary school, however, so I might fall short."

He gave a small nod, just as his phone started to ring. "There is nothing I want, thank you."

Before I could reply, he picked up the call, his keys and jacket, and was out the door. I sighed, watching the door that was still slightly open. It felt like such a push and pull. Sometimes, he was the one pulling me. Other times, it was me, and I believed I was failing miserably.