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It’s hard to will my eyes closed. I have so much crap running through my mind. I wish I could have music to help with the silence, but that’s not permitted. I squeeze my eyes shut and begin one of the few useful techniques Dr. Tobin has taught me. Locking my lips, I inhale for four seconds, then hold my breath while counting to seven. Exhaling, I count to eight before I repeat it over and over until I lose track of the numbers and fall asleep.
His dark blue eyes are only a few inches away when he says, “Eyes on me,” so quietly, I can barely hear him. Then he’s walking down to the stage, leaving me to wonder if he really said it out loud or if my mind is playing tricks on me again.
As I’m pulling my arm back, he darts forward and swipes his tongue across my lips. I’m so surprised, I jerk back, but my first instinct is to lick my lips. His blue eyes track the path of my tongue, and he says, “Your lips and hands can touch anything you like.”
“Let’s go before he hauls you over his shoulder and gets himself in trouble,”
“Eyes up, Waylynn.” She hesitates for just a second, then peers up at me from under her lashes. The words good girl form in my mind, and I just manage to keep the thoughts from slipping past my lips. I have no idea what her reaction would be, but I know I’m not prepared for it—not here, not now.
We’re so close, I could count his eyelashes if I tried. “I’m going to have to put my name on you,” he says, but I don’t even really register the meaning of his words. I’m too busy making sure no one else can hear how hard my heart is beating and trying to act unaffected by his nearness. “It’s our name,” Memphis drawls.
“I don’t do relationships, never have, but I would lock you down with us in a heartbeat. I’m scared of the things I want from you, but I want them anyway. I can’t explain it, and I don’t even feel the need to question it because I know it’s right.”
