Go To Sleep
Chapter 185: Go To Sleep
Lizzie
“I’m going with you. I don’t care if you fancy the idea or not. It’s not your decision to make, Reese.”
My voice was steady. I didn’t shout. I didn’t whine. I said it like a fact. A non-negotiable statement of reality.
Reese didn’t even bother turning around as he walked ahead. “You’re not doing shit, Elizabeth.”
I followed right behind him, practically glued to him like a second shadow. Roman had dipped the moment the tension picked up, muttering something like “I should check on Savannah.” He left me alone with Reese. I still wasn’t sure whether that was accidental or strategic.
Reese moved through the hallway with that slow, purposeful walk of his. The type that said he didn’t need to raise his voice to be the one in charge.
He pushed open the door to his room. I planted myself in the doorway before he could close it.
“And who are you to tell me what to do?” I asked, chin lifted. “You’re not my father. You’re not my husband. Even if you were, I would still have autonomy. It is my life. I make the rules. So you have zero authority over my choices.”
He paused. Turned. The amusement in his eyes was subtle but very much there. “Agreed,” he said. “But I am the guy whose home you’re trying to raid, and I’m telling you no. Go to sleep. This does not concern you.”
He stepped inside and slammed the door in my face. The sound cracked like a tight slap to the face. The sound snapped something in my spine.
My body jerked in shock.
I pushed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall. “How dare you,” I whispered, not to him but to the audacity of the universe.
I stormed inside. “How dare you slam the door in my face!”
Reese didn’t even turn to look at me. He was already pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a broad, muscled back and shoulder blades that flexed beneath olive-toned skin. I opened my mouth to yell, but the moment my eyes caught the ink down his spine, the words disappeared.
The tattoo ran from the base of his neck all the way down the center of his back. Dark lines and curves. Almost like wings. Or something written.
“What’s that?” I asked before I could stop myself. “What does it say?”
He tossed the shirt aside and looked over his shoulder at me with a stare that was equal parts warning and exhaustion. “Get out of my room, Elizabeth. This discussion is over.”
“No.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving.”
He faced me fully now, hands settling on his hips. His patience was thinning, but his expression stayed calm. That was what irritated me most. He didn’t need to yell to feel powerful. He didn’t need to bark to control the room. His presence was a whole authority by itself.
I hated that I liked it.
“I am resourceful,” I insisted. “I’m smart. I'm strong. You’re going to need me. I know it.” My voice cracked slightly, but I held my spine straight. I needed him to hear me. Not just listen. Hear. Understand.
I could not just go back home. I could not just go back to my mother. I don't want to.
Going back to Chicago meant surrender. It meant walking into a cage with a pretty gold lock. It meant being told what to wear. What to eat. What to say. Who to let near me. Who to pretend to love.
She’ll set me up with men who look right on paper. Button-down shirts. Clean haircuts. Desk jobs. Quiet family life. Men who drink scotch and play pool on Fridays and think being a gentleman means opening doors but never asking who you actually are inside.
“Please, Reese.” I clasped my hands together. “Just let me have this last bit of fun.”
He didn’t respond. He just watched me.
My mother would drag me to brunches with women who spent their lives keeping score of who was better. She would parade me in front of sons who had expensive degrees and empty souls. Sons who played polite but looked at me like I was something to acquire and own. Sons who would nod while I talked, only to later whisper to their brothers that I was strange. Morbid. Too intense.
The moment I tried to show anyone real pieces of myself, the reaction was always the same. Repulsion. Confusion. Disbelief that someone like me could be obsessed with gore and slashers.
They would say I was beautiful, but they would treat me like a cracked mirror. Something wrong. Something defective. Something better covered up.
Reese had never done that to me. Even when he was teasing or mocking, he looked at me like I was whole. Maybe a little odd, sure. But not something to hide.
I swallowed hard. My chest squeezed. I hated how much emotion was pushing at the back of my throat.
He still hadn’t moved. Still watching me. Still refusing I have this last adventure.
“Once I leave,” I said quietly, “my mother will decide everything. She will pick who I marry. She will pick what I become. She will pick the shape of my life. This is my chance to make one decision that belongs to me.” Before my mom ruins my life forever. I'd rather die happy as an old lady with the memory of Reese as my first.
Speaking of that, I don't know how Sav's going to react if she finds out I lied to her. Well, technically I didn't mean to lie, it just slipped out.
I wanted her to feel comfortable enough to tell me what was wrong between her and Roman that night. So I blurted out that I wasn't a virgin.
I mean, you can't blame me.
If I'd told her that I was a virgin then she would never have felt comfortable discussing her and Roman’s problem with me.
Plus, she'd probably also treat me like a child. Everyone does that once they find out you haven't had sex, boom, you're suddenly the innocent baby. And I hate that. I know all there is to the deed. I just haven't done it yet.
There is a big difference between acquiring knowledge and practicing it.
There was thick, heavy silence in the room for some time. But he still didn’t soften. Reese never softened.
“Get out,” he said again, tone low.
I shook my head. “No.”
Sav probably would have lost her mind if she found out that the only reason I want to sleep with Reese is because he's the perfect candidate.
Duh? Of course I'm going to be selective in choosing who I sleep with first. Besides, my mom thinks I'm a virgin since I've always lived a sheltered life.
Well, mom, not for long.
Ever since I saw Reese at Chloe's wedding, I know he was the one. First of all, my mom would faint if she saw him. He's the total opposite of the guys she sets me up with.
He dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “Elizabeth…”
“If I go back home, I will disappear.” I said it like a confession. “I become a dress on a hanger. A name on a dinner list. A puppet. I can’t do that. I won’t.”
He didn’t respond. Which somehow hurt more.
“And before you start with your noble protector act, Roman didn’t say anything. He didn’t object. So what gives you the authority to—”
Reese walked toward me slowly, controlled, like a large predator approaching a stubborn little animal that did not understand the situation it had placed itself in. He stopped close enough that I had to tilt my head back to keep eye contact.
“He did not refuse,” Reese said, “because you are his fiancée’s cousin. He is playing politics. I am not.” His voice was soft. “You will forget you heard anything tonight,” he continued. “You will go to bed. The world will keep turning. And you will learn to mind your business, Elizabeth. This is serious.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders. Not rough. Not tender. Just steady. Firm. Like one guides a child out of the way of a moving car.
I immediately shrugged off his touch. Too fast. Too jerky. My heart was beating too hard.
His eyes dropped. Not to my face. But lower. My crossed arms. My stiff peaks. The betrayal of my own body. I forced my elbows tighter. Too little, too late.
He exhaled sharply. As if I was something exhausting. A task. A chaos he did not request.
“Elizabeth, I am about to take a shower,” he said, tone dry. “You need to leave.”
I didn’t move. “I don’t see how that concerns me.”
“I’m about to get naked, darling. Now go.”
My throat tightened. Heat shot down my spine. My entire body went still. There was a pause where my mind didn’t think. It just reacted. My tongue slipped out instinctively to wet my suddenly dry lips.
His eyes flicked down and back up. Slow. Deliberate. Knowing.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You are one naughty little lady, aren’t you?” His voice dropped lower.
I scoffed, though it sounded weak. “What do I care if you get naked? I’m staying right here. You can strip if you want. I don’t care. Your nakedness isn’t going to affect me because I’ve seen plenty of naked men to last me a lifetime, Reese.” Lie. Obvious lie.
I've only seen naked men in movies and TV shows and exotic magazines I consume. Or even the few adult videos I've watched to feed my curiosity on intercourse and the male anatomy.
Somehow, it felt like Reese knew I was lying. I could tell. The entire room knew it.
His smile widened. Not sweet. Sharp. “If you say so.”
He didn’t rush. Reese had no intention to. He stepped backward while keeping his eyes locked on mine. His fingers moved to his belt buckle. The metal clicked. The sound was louder than it should have been. He slid the belt free, dropped it on the bed. Then his fingers went to the zipper.
Time stretched thin. I blinked twice in rapid succession, my lips parting. Something fluttered low in my stomach. Something warm. Something terrifying.
Then the pants fell.
And Reese, in one smooth motion, stripped the final barrier between me and the man I had been obsessively wanting since the moment I first laid eyes on him.
My breath left me in a single, soundless choke. “Oh my fucking God,” I whispered to myself.
Heat flooded my face, my neck, the tips of my ears. My heartbeat ricocheted against my ribs like it was trying to escape my body. My fingers curled tight around my own arms to keep them from doing something insane. Like reaching. Touching. Feeling.
Reese didn’t move. He didn’t cover himself. He didn’t shy away. He stood there like a challenge.
Say you’re not affected. Say it. Go on. Lie again.
The room suddenly felt too small. My skin felt too tight. My body felt foreign. I was aware of every heartbeat, every inhale, every thought.
He tilted his head. “Everything alright, darling?”
I couldn’t speak for a moment. My mouth opened. No sound. Then I nodded. My eyes stayed glued to that part.
Reese’s smile deepened. Victory. “You were saying?” he murmured. “Something about being unaffected?”
I swallowed. It sounded loud. Embarrassing. My face burned hotter.
I should have looked away. I should have turned. I should have left. But I didn’t.
Reese walked closer. One step. Then another. He stopped just close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Not touching. Just proximity. Just enough to ruin every rational thought in my head.
“You want to come with us?” he asked quietly.
My heart jumped. “Yes,” I breathed.
“Then learn something right now.” His voice was rough. “Wanting something does not mean you are ready for it.”
I blinked. Confusion tangled with desire and frustration.
His fingers came up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. Soft. Devastatingly soft. My knees almost quit beneath me.
“Go to sleep, Elizabeth.”