| published! under the new title MEET ME IN THE MIDDLE | Eden knows she can't love Truman, the boy with the angelic smile and devilish eyes. Why? He's her best friend Katie's older brother, who she strictly promised she'd stay away from.
But when a...
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E D E N
My head was throbbing when I woke up the next morning, beating faintly against the pillow. The sun pouring in from the window only made it worse.
"Why is the blind open?" I groaned, pulling the covers over my head.
I realized I wasn't in my bedroom when I saw the white paint on the walls. I realized I wasn't alone when I heard his chuckle.
"Morning, little devil."
I sat up and screamed. Truman only rolled his eyes and turned back to the magazine resting on his lap.
"Where am I?" I demanded, tugging the blanket to higher. "And why are you here?"
Glancing around the room told me I was in a hotel, the minimal furniture was enough to give that away.
"Truman," I said again when he didn't respond.
He sighed and closed the magazine. "You fell asleep in my car last night after your little rendezvous with the lead singer."
I ignored the last part. "So you brought me to a hotel?"
His eyes met mine and they were narrowed. I ignored the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he crossed them over his chest.
"Did you want me to leave you in the fucking street? It was either that or drop you off at your parents house, drunk out of your mind." I sighed and he returned back to the magazine. "I thought so."
"I don't live with them anymore," I mumbled, collapsing back on the bed. His head turned to the side, showing the slightest of interest. "I'm living on my own—in an apartment."
Truman only nodded his head and returned back to the magazine, biting his lip as he flipped between the pages.
"Does Satan"—I coughed—"Santana know you're here with me?"
He held up the magazine and I eyed the cover with a half naked woman on it. "Tryin' to read here," he said.
I scoffed. "I'll be impressed when you read something that doesn't objectify women." He chuckled and threw it onto the dresser. "Answer my question," I said.
Truman ran a hand through his hair. It looked darker than I remembered it. "Yes, she knows I'm here."
I raised my eyebrows. "Here with me?"
He looked away. "May have left out that part," he grumbled.
Lovely.
"How long are you in the city?"
He shrugged. "Permanently ."
"You're not leaving again?" I asked. "I thought running away was your thing."
