Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set

by Jessica Sorensen

  When his mouth leaves mine, I make a raspy protest, but words get lost as he places tender kisses down my jawline to my neck. He sucks and nips on the flesh, causing my body to swelter with overbearing heat.

  “Ah . . . This feels so good,” I moan with my head tipped back, clutching onto his shoulders and wishing the moment would never end.

  But as soon as the wish surfaces, the front door opens, the alarm goes off, and the moment goes poof. We scramble apart, breathless, our clothes and hair in disarray. I stumble across the room back to the sofa, smoothing my dress back into place. Dropping down on the cushion, I quickly scoop up my sketchpad and pencil right as the alarm gets silenced.

  My mother, Fiona, and Everson enter the living room from the foyer while my father comes hurrying in from the hallway.

  “What’s going on?” he asks as he rushes in. “Why’s the alarm going . . . ?” He trails off when he sees my mom. “That was a quick trip.”

  “Yeah, we just went through the drive-thru.” My mother gives a suspicious glance between Ayden and me. “What have you two been up to?”

  Shrugging, I press the tip of my pencil against the paper. “Nothing. Just chillin.’”

  “Sure you were.” She exchanges a look with my father, and for a flash of an instant, I wonder if they know exactly what Ayden and I were up to. “Did you check on them at all while I was gone?”

  My dad shrugs at her. “Not really, but the alarm was set so I’d know if they tried to leave.”

  “I’m not worried about them leaving.”

  “Then what are you worried about?”

  Hello, Captain Oblivious. Even I get what she’s worried about.

  She presses him with a look, but he still appears lost, either clueless about what my mom’s implying or unwilling to accept it.

  “I have a few things I’ve got to take care of,” he says to her, backing out of the room. “Meet you upstairs in, like, twenty minutes?”

  My mom heaves an exhausted sigh. “All right.”

  He waggles his eyebrows at her, and then the two of them exchange a look meant only for them to see, even though there’s a room full of eyes.

  “Wow, way to be obvious, you two,” I say to break the awkward silence in the room.

  My mother shoots me a dirty look, and I flash her a smirk.

  “She’s just like you,” she tells my dad. “You know that, right?”

  “I do.” He grins, pleased. “And I’ll take that as the highest compliment.” He winks at me before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

  My mom brushes her auburn hair off her shoulder then turns to me. “I’m going to go upstairs to take a shower. Try to behave. And have everyone in bed within the next hour.”

  I give her a salute. “Yes, boss.”

  She rolls her eyes but smiles before walking off toward the stairway. Moments later, I hear the alarm beep, meaning she set it.

  Once all the parentals are out of the room, Fiona, the youngest Gregorys, plops down on the sofa beside Ayden. Kale hurries up to me, hands me a bowl of caramel swirled ice cream, then sits down on the armrest.

  “I brought you ice cream.” She gives Ayden one of the cups. “I got cookie dough because I know it’s your favorite.”

  Ayden stares at the bowl with his brows knit. “How’d you know it’s my favorite?”

  Fiona rolls her eyes. “You think you’re so mysterious, Ayden, but let me tell you, you kind of aren’t.” She shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth then flashes him a grin. “You said something about it being your favorite during your birthday.”

  “Did I?” Ayden wonders, diving into his ice cream. “I don’t remember telling anyone that.”

  “You told Lyric, just like you tell her every other secret of yours.” She kicks her feet up onto the coffee table with a sassy smirk on her face.

  Ayden and I share an amused look because Fiona is a typical thirteen-year-old—full of rebellion, a sassy attitude, and keeps everyone on their toes.

  “Just like you share everything else with her, including your body,” she adds with a giggle.

  Ayden and my eyes snap wide open, and she erupts in a fit of giggles.

  Kale chokes on his ice cream. “Jesus, Fi, where’s your filter?”

  “I don’t share my body with her.” Ayden’s voice cracks.

  Technically, he isn’t lying. I haven’t touched Ayden anywhere other than on the outside of his clothes. I, however, have been very giving with my body.

  “Fiona, why would you say that?” I ask coolly, stirring my ice cream.

  She dabs the tears of laughter from her eyes. “Because it’s true. Everyone knows it.”

  I lick a heap of ice cream off the spoon. “Who’s everyone?”

  She shrugs indifferently. “Me, Kale, Everson, half the kids at school.”

  “What about my parents?” I ask her. “And yours? Do they know?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think they know yet. They’re pretty oblivious when it comes to these sorts of things.”

  I kick back on the sofa with my feet propped under me and stuff a bite full of ice cream into my mouth. When our relationship started heating up, Ayden and I agreed it’d be for the best if we kept it a secret for a while. With our families being so tight, we know that the moment they find out, they’ll start giving us rules and having expectations. At eighteen-years-old, we want to have a normal relationship without parents getting involved and making everything all awkward.

  “I wouldn’t get too relaxed if I were you,” she remarks. “Sooner or later, they’re going to find out, and it’d be better if you guys told them; otherwise, you’re going to hurt their feelings. You know how sensitive they can be.”

  I catch Ayden’s gaze. “She’s probably right.”

  He squirms uncomfortably. “Yeah, maybe.” He shoves a bite of ice cream into his mouth and stares at the fireplace, lost in thought.

  I open my mouth to ask him if everything’s okay, but Kale speaks first. “Ayden, could you help me with something?” he asks, quickly hopping to his feet.

  Ayden tears his gaze off the fireplace and blinks up at him. “What’s up?”

  Kale scratches his nose, appearing as uneasy as Ayden. “Can we talk about it upstairs in the guest room?” His gaze skims over Fiona and me. “In private.”

  “Sure.” Ayden flicks a glance in my direction before he rises to his feet, looking as squirrely as the first day we met. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I frown after he hurries out of the room like it’s on fire. “I wonder what that’s about.”

  “Kale has a crush on this girl at school,” Fiona explains, misinterpreting what I meant. “But, since he’s a weirdo, he needs Ayden’s help trying to get this girl’s attention. I don’t know why he asked Ayden, though. He’s just as much of a weirdo as Kale.” She gives an elongated pause. “We all kind of are.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief as they land on me. “That includes you, too, you know. You’re seriously as insane as the rest of us.”

  “I never claimed to be sane.” I jab the spoon at the ice cream, still stuck on why Ayden seemed all squiggly. “Besides, normal is so overrated. Trust me. I have a few friends who are normal, and I’d rather poke my eye out than live their lives of going off to college as soon as I graduate, getting a normal job, and eventually starting a family.”

  With senior year nearing the end, it’s all everyone talks about anymore. Going off to college to pursue a degree that will give them an average job with stable pay.

  “You don’t plan on going to college?”

  “No. At least, not until I see what I can do with my music career.”

  “Isn’t that sort of risky?”

  “Yeah.” I balance the bowl on the armrest. “But I’d risk my sanity if I didn’t at least try.”

  “Does your mom and dad know about this?” She sets the cup of ice cream on her knee and starts side-braiding her long, brown hair.

  “I’ve mentioned it a
couple of times,” I tell her. “They’re a little bit more hesitant than I am that it’ll all work out.”

  “Figures. Parents so don’t understand dreams.” She secures the braid with an elastic.

  “What’s with the third degree, anyway? You’re thirteen. Aren’t you supposed to be worrying about crushes and makeup and stuff like that?”

  “I do worry about that stuff, but as an aspiring artist, I also worry about my art and whether or not becoming an artist is in my future.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I stand up with my sketchbook in my hand. “Your sketches are amazing.”

  “So are yours and your mother’s.” She collects the cup off her lap and hops to her feet, tugging at the hem of her yellow dress. “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

  I hesitate. The detailed drawing of Ayden feels very private and intimate, but then I realize it doesn’t really matter since she already knows about our relationship.

  “What the hell.” I hold out my sketchpad for her to see.

  She examines it closely, and a smile spans across her face. “It looks so much like him it’s crazy.”

  I grin at her approval, tuck the sketchpad under my arm, and motion at her as I head for the stairs. “Come on. Let’s go get ready for bed, and then I’ll let you look at more of them.”

  She skips after me. “Thanks, Lyric. You’re the best neighbor-who’s-like-a-sister ever.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I start up the stairway, “you say that now, but I’m sure you’ll change your mind like you do every other day.”

  She giggles. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  After we’re in our pajamas, we get situated in my room. Since we only have one guestroom in my house, Ayden and Kale are staying in it, so Fiona is camping out on my floor in a sleeping bag. The lights are off, but she uses her phone as a flashlight while she flips through my sketchpad.

  “There’s so many pictures of Ayden.” She turns another page. “Lyric?”

  “Yeah?” I answer sleepily.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Love who?” I yawn, already half asleep.

  “Ayden.”

  I freeze mid-yawn and open my mouth to say no, but the lie won’t leave my lips.

  “It’s okay,” she reassures me, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  I smile to myself as I roll over and close my eyes. I fall asleep to the sound of turning pages and my mind filled with a thousand lyrics.

  So soft are his lips,

  Like rose petals and velvet.

  The taste of him is indescribable.

  The feel of his body almost unbearable.

  When he kisses me, I swear I’m dying.

  Out of air, body aching, knees shaking.

  More, more, more,

  Always craving more.

  Love, it’s like an addiction,

  Consuming the mind.

  Love, love, love.

  I’m so in love with him.

  I’M WOKEN UP IN THE dead of sleep by violent shaking. Still half stuck in dreamland, at first I think it’s an earthquake, but as my eyes adjust to the night, I realize it’s Fiona.

  “Lyric, wake up.” She gives my shoulder another shake.

  “What’s wrong?” I sit up, rub my eyes, and then glance at the clock. “Dude, it’s only four o’clock in the morning. What the hell, Fiona?”

  “It’s Ayden,” she says, her eyes wild with panic. “He’s in trouble.”

  Just like that, I’m wide awake, like my body has been hotwired.

  “What’s wrong?” I fling the blankets off my body and spring from the bed.

  “I had a dream about him,” she whispers, hugging her arms around herself.

  I instantly relax. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, but seriously, you can’t wake me up this early.” I’m not a morning person at all.

  “It wasn’t a nightmare,” she huffs in frustration, stomping her foot on the floor. “It really happened.”

  I sink down on the edge of my bed, yawning. “What happened?”

  “Ayden . . . I was dreaming about him sleepwalking outside, and then the dream came true.” Pale moonlight trickles through the window and highlights the fear in her expression.

  “I know nightmares can be scary,” I say in the most sympathetic voice I can muster at this early of an hour, “but you have to remember that they’re just that—nightmares.”

  “It wasn’t a nightmare.” She marches up to the window and points at something outside. “If you don’t believe me, then take a look for yourself.”

  My heart immediately starts pumping blood through my body at an alarming rate. I rise to my feet, pad over to the window, and peer down at the ground. At first, all I see is nightfall covering the neighborhood. But as I strain my vision, I spot a figure next door, standing out on the Gregory’s front yard.

  No, not Ayden. He’s not supposed to leave the house and definitely not in the middle of the night.

  “Ayden . . .” I whirl to Fiona. “Go wake up my mom.” I run out of my room, down the stairs, and cringe when I realize the front door is wide open, and the alarm has been turned off.

  Ayden knows the code, so I’m guessing he did it somehow while he’s sleepwalking.

  What the hell?

  Even though it’s April, the cement is cold against my bare feet as I race down the driveway and around the fence dividing our yards. The road is dimly lit by lampposts that offer just enough light so I’m not running around blind.

  As I approach him, my pulse soars. Wide-eyed and out of it, his lips are moving as he mutters under his breath. I’ve found Ayden sleepwalking before, and like the first time, he’s talking about stuff I don’t understand.

  “We’re not going to let you out that easy,” he mutters, staring dazedly at a car on the corner of the road. “No one leaves us. Ever.”

  I struggle over what to do. I know better than to wake him up; otherwise, he might flip out. But I need to get him back into the house somehow.

  I reach out to touch his arm, hoping to subtly guide him back without waking him, when he turns his head and looks at me.

  “We’re going to come for you,” he mutters. “And you’re going to wish you never escaped . . .” He blinks his eyes, and then his lips part. “What the hell?” In a panic, he glances around at the houses. “Where the hell am I . . . ? How did I . . . ?” His enlarged eyes lock on me. “I don’t . . .”

  Shit. He’s waking up and panicking.

  “It’s okay.” I cautiously inch toward him with my arms open, preparing to hug him, but he skitters away from me with his hands out in front of him.

  “How the fuck did I get out here?” he demands in a harsh voice, his eyes watering up as he gasps for air. “I don’t understand.”

  I keep my hands in front of me while stepping toward him. “You were sleepwalking, I think. But it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

  He clenches his hands into fists and sucks in a breath to fight back the tears, but a few escape and cascade down his cheeks. “I’m so sick of this. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

  “I know, but it’s going to be okay.” I have no idea what else to say. No clue what to do. I feel so helpless at the moment.

  “I’m so sorry.” His head slumps forward as he starts to cry.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about.” I loop my arm around his back and steer him toward my house. “Let’s get you inside.”

  Nodding, his arms wraps around my waist. We hike around the fence, up the driveway, and to the front porch. I only let him go to shut the front door, but freeze when I notice the car on the corner that Ayden was staring at now has the headlights on.

  I watch as it flips a U-turn and peels off down the street. With everything that has been happening, I wonder if it isn’t a coincidence that the car drives off the moment we head back inside. Could it be someone stalking Ayden again?

  “Lyric, what’s going on?” My mother’s voice floats over my shoulder.

  I lock t
he door then turn around. She has on a robe, her hair is a tangled mess, and her tired eyes are bouncing back and forth between Fiona, Ayden, and me.

  I hurry and explain what happened, making sure to include the car. She tells me not to worry, that it was probably one of the neighbors heading off to work, but her eyes show her concern.

  “Let’s all get back to bed, and we can talk it about in the morning, okay? When Lila and Ethan get home,” my mom says, ushering us toward the stairs. “I can’t believe you managed to turn the alarm off in your sleep,” she mutters quietly.

  “I’m sorry,” Ayden apologizes as we ascend the stairs. “I don’t know how I did it, either.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” my mother says from behind us. “This isn’t your fault, sweetie.”

  Ayden bites down on his lip, not saying anything else.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper to him.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough that only I can hear.

  I graze my fingers along his arm. “I’m here if you want to talk about it in the morning.”

  He nods, and then we part ways at the top of the stairway. Fiona follows me into my room and slides back into the sleeping bag while I climb into bed.

  By the time I pull the covers over me, the sun is kissing the edges of San Diego and glowing across the sky, casting rays of light into my room. Restless, I stay awake to write, silently expressing what I can’t say aloud, allowing myself to get lost in my words.

  “Lyric, I’m scared,” Fiona says so abruptly I jump and chuck the pen I’m holding like I’m some sort of spastic ninja.

  “Jesus, I thought you were sleeping.” I set down my journal, lean over to the side, and peer down at her. “You don’t need to be scared. Ayden’s fine.”

  “That’s not what I’m scared about.” She tugs the sleeping bag up higher as she gazes up at the ceiling. “I’m scared I’ll have more nightmares if I shut my eyes.”

  “You said you dreamed that Ayden was sleepwalking?”

  “Sort of,” she replies vaguely. “Then, when I woke up, I saw him out on the front lawn.”