<b>Chapter </b><b>426 </b>
Aria said matter–of–factly, “Can’t have you staying up until three or four. Just sleep. You’ll have to get used to it anyway,”
She wasn’t worried Owen would assassinate her in her sleep. With that out of the way, sharing a bed with him was no different than crashing with
<b>Vanessa</b>.
+28)
She pulled open the closet, grabbed a thin nket, walked around to the other side of the bed, and spread it out. “I’ve never slept on this side. You take
it”
She picked up the teddy bear, ced it in the middle like a soft, fuzzy border.
“You sleep first, I’m going to shower,” Aria said, calm as ever. She didn’t even hesitate to grab her pajamas and underwear right in front of him.
Owen quickly averted his eyes, catching her reflection as she disappeared into the bathroom.
He stood there dazed for a long moment, muttering under his breath, “Does she just… not see me <b>as </b><b>a </b>man?”
But she was the one who kissed him–she must.
His gaze drifted to the bed. The thought of actually sharing it with her made his heart pound like crazy.
Hearing the shower, he couldn’t help ncing over. Through the misty ss, he could see her arms raised, fingers running through her hair.
He jerked his head away, almost bolting to the balcony, hand pressed to his forehead, cursing himself out.
He stayed outside until Aria finished her shower, blow–dried her hair, and finally poked her head out. “You’re not sleeping yet?”
Owen turned, immediately distracted by the sight of her brushing her hair, calm and unfazed.
He swallowed, looked away. “Getting there.”
She finished up, noticed him still standing, and shot him a look. “Not tired?”
“Not really.” Owen came inside, closed and locked the balcony door, pulled the curtains, then cracked a window to let some air in.
The chill helped settle his nerves.
Remembering the sad pots on the balcony, he asked, “So… those flowerpots out there. Did you never nt anything?<b>” </b>
Aria snapped out of her thoughts and replied, “I did, but everything I raise dies. Nothing’s ever made it.”
An awkward silence settled over the room.
Suddenly she remembered the 3,000 dors she’d sent him that morning and added, “Well, not everything–there’s still one cactus left.”
Owen had to stifle augh. “Yeah, there’s still a cactus. Tell you what–why don’t I nt something for you next time? Would that be alright?”
She looked at him, curious. “You? nting<b>?</b><b>” </b>
He nodded, determined. “You’ve already got soil and pots. I’ll buy some flowers after work tomorrow, get them started, ande by every so often to take care of them. I promise they won’t die on my watch.”
This way, he’d always have an excuse to visit her room.
“Sure<b>, </b><b>go </b>ahead<b>,</b>” Aria agreed, no fuss.
She adjusted the AC, dropped the temp a couple of degrees, and climbed into bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.
48 <b>Sun</b><b>, </b>22 Jun
<b>They </b>were sharing <b>a </b><b>bed </b>now. What difference did it make if he came over more often<b>? </b>
“Remember <b>to </b><b>turn </b><b>off </b><b>the </b>light,” she said.
Her movements were <b>so </b><b>casual </b>that, <b>if </b>it weren’t for herst sentence, Owen might’ve thought she’d forgotten he was even there.
He turned off <b>the </b>main light, slipped into bed on his side.
<b>Aria </b>rolled <b>onto </b>her back, eyes up <b>at </b>the ceiling. “What time do you need to wake up? Should I <b>set </b>an rm?”
<b>“</b><b>I’ll </b>be fine. No <b>rm </b>needed.”
“Alright.” She reached over, switched off the bedsidemp. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Owen echoed, eyes closed but nowhere near sleep.
He’d nned to help her get used to him slowly, but suddenly, here they were, sharing a bed.
The pace was dizzying<b>, </b>but he couldn’t help feeling a little hopeful.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d end up spending a lot more nights like this.