Chapter 3

The following morning, a few gentle knocks on the door woke me.

I slowly opened my eyes and needed a few seconds to remember that Christopher had ended up spending the night with me. My back rested against his chest, and one of his arms remained firmly wrapped around my waist.

"Mia, are you awake?" a familiar voice asked from the other side of the door.

It was Bea, one of my friends, who worked on the mansion's housekeeping staff.

I carefully tried to pull away so I could get up, but Christopher reacted to my movement by holding me even tighter against him. I made a second attempt, and when it became clear that he had absolutely no intention of letting me go, I finally gave up.

"Come in, Bea."

The door opened slowly, and my friend peeked inside, taking care not to make more noise than necessary. When she discovered Christopher sound asleep beside me, she smiled with a casualness that probably would have surprised anyone unfamiliar with the household.

For those who worked at the Morgan mansion, finding us sleeping together was nothing extraordinary. Everyone knew about Christopher's sleeping problems and understood my role in the family.

"Sorry to wake you, but Miss Serena is asking for Master Christopher, and we don't know what to tell her."

"Thanks, Bea. I'll wake him up."

My friend nodded and carefully closed the door, leaving me with the far-from-simple task of convincing Christopher to get out of bed.

I turned in his arms and gently stroked his face.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Christopher responded with a protesting groan and wrapped his arms around me again, as though determined to keep me from escaping. Then he slid a hand along my leg to drape it over his, a gesture he had repeated countless times in his sleep.

The difference was that, on that particular morning, I was wearing shorts considerably shorter than my usual pajamas, and the closeness of our bodies made me aware of something we normally tried our best to ignore.

Christopher was no longer the twelve-year-old boy who had appeared one night in my blanket fort, and I was no longer the little girl who had simply wanted to find someone willing to do the voices of her dragons.

We had grown up, and although our nighttime routine had remained practically unchanged, our bodies had changed enough to make certain embraces considerably more complicated than they used to be.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and tried to move away a little, but Christopher, still half asleep, reached for me again beneath the sheets.

"Christopher, it's time to wake up," I insisted, this time more firmly.

"I'm sleepy. Go back to sleep," he murmured, burying his face against my neck.

"Your girlfriend is looking for you."

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied immediately, although at least that statement made him loosen his hold a little.

"Well, Miss Serena," I corrected, placing particular emphasis on her title, "is looking for you, and Bea came all the way here because nobody knows what to tell her."

Christopher let out a sleepy chuckle.

"Since when are you so formal with my guests?"

"Since a woman spends the night in your bedroom and you end up sleeping in mine."

That seemed to wake him up completely, because he released a resigned sigh and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I knew it was a bad idea," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

"What was?"

"Thinking I could spend an entire night without coming to find you."

I watched him as he propped himself up slightly on his pillow. He had tried sleeping without me on several occasions, sometimes alone and sometimes with company, but so far, none of those experiences had ended particularly well.

"Well, at least you tried," I commented, doing my best to sound unconcerned.

"And failed miserably," he replied with a tired smile.

I couldn't help laughing, although there was something uncomfortable about the situation. Christopher seemed far too aware of our closeness, and I was beginning to wonder whether we would ever be able to sleep together with the same carefree innocence we had enjoyed as children.

"I think you should get up before Serena decides to organize a search party throughout the mansion."

"Give me five more minutes," he pleaded with an expression that was clearly meant to look innocent.

"Christopher..."

"Five minutes, Mia. You don't even have to move. I just need a moment to compose myself."

"That's precisely the problem."

"It's your fault for wearing those pajamas," he said, moving closer to me and making his body's reaction unmistakably obvious.

"First of all, I didn't know I'd be sleeping with you. You sent me a message. Second, I really don't think rubbing yourself against me is helping matters."

"Not at all, but it feels good."

"Christopher..."

"I know, I know... I know."

His smile widened, and I ended up throwing a pillow at him, provoking a burst of laughter that made me smile despite my efforts to maintain a serious expression.

For some time now, we had both been aware that our physical closeness could lead to awkward situations. We had discussed it when we started growing up and agreed to respect certain boundaries, especially because our relationship was governed by his parents' rules and the agreement that allowed me to continue living in that house.

It wasn't as simple as pretending nothing had changed, but neither of us wanted to jeopardize the delicate balance we had managed to maintain for so many years.

Eventually, Christopher got out of bed with all the reluctance in the world, adjusting himself as discreetly as possible to conceal his predicament, before turning toward me while I remained tucked beneath the sheets.

"I'm going to find Serena," he announced with a smile that didn't look particularly enthusiastic. "See you tonight."

"See you tonight," I replied automatically.

I watched him leave my bedroom, and when I heard the door close, I let out a long sigh.

Things were becoming increasingly complicated, and I had absolutely no idea how we were going to solve them.

After getting up and dressing, I headed to the kitchen, where I found Bea chatting with Maggie as Maggie prepared breakfast.

"Little Pillow! You're finally awake," Maggie greeted me with a smile. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Make it a whole liter, please!"

Maggie burst out laughing as she reached into one of the cupboards for a mug.

"Was it that difficult to wake him up?" Bea asked, studying my expression.

"Very," I replied before sitting down beside her. "But judging by your face, I suspect you're dying to tell me how this morning started, so I don't know what you're waiting for."

Maggie laughed again, while Bea adopted an expression of mock indignation.

"Let's just say Miss Serena was on the verge of hysterics. I never would have imagined such a refined young lady could scream and rant like that. Especially considering how calm she seemed last night..."

I couldn't help laughing as I imagined the scene. The truth was, after seeing her on a few occasions, I didn't find it particularly difficult to believe that Serena had lost her temper upon discovering that Christopher had disappeared from his bedroom.

"I suppose he hasn't told her that he sleeps with you every night," Bea commented without any malice.

"I suppose not. Although I imagine it's not exactly easy to explain," I replied as Maggie placed a cup of coffee in front of me. "How do you tell someone you need another person as a human pillow when, theoretically, you could just use her instead?"

"Well, apparently Serena didn't turn out to be a very comfortable pillow, considering he ended up in your bed," Bea observed with a mischievous smile.

"Apparently not," I replied with a shrug before taking a sip of my coffee.

Christopher had tried changing our routine on several occasions. Sometimes he managed to spend a night or two without me, but sooner or later, the insomnia returned, and he ended up seeking my company again.

On one occasion, he had managed to go five days without sleeping properly or taking the medication he had been prescribed, but the result had been disastrous. His exhaustion was obvious, the dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to have taken up permanent residence, and his mood had become so unbearable that we eventually returned to our usual routine.

He preferred sleeping with me to depending on medication, something I could understand perfectly well, although as we grew older, it became increasingly difficult to explain our strange arrangement to people who didn't know our history.

And mornings like that one certainly didn't help.

"I heard they're planning a weekend trip out of town," Bea commented, interrupting my thoughts.

I set my cup on the table and sighed.

Family trips were never a problem. Whenever I accompanied the Morgans, everyone knew about our situation, and nobody questioned Christopher and me sharing a bedroom. However, traveling with his friends was an entirely different story.

Christopher couldn't drink too much alcohol when he needed to take his sleeping medication, but his friends didn't always understand the importance of that restriction and, on more than one occasion, had insisted that he drink with them.

I particularly remembered one trip when he had ended up drinking alcohol after taking his medication, a combination that caused a reaction severe enough for him to be taken to the hospital and kept under observation.

That night, I ended up sneaking into his hospital bed so he could get some rest, and although my presence helped calm him, we also received an absolutely monumental scolding from the nurse who discovered us cuddled together when she came in to check his vital signs.

I had no intention of repeating that experience, because the whole ordeal had given us quite a scare.

"Hopefully it'll be a quiet weekend," I finally commented.

"Hopefully, sweetheart, but after seeing how last night's party ended, I have my doubts," Maggie replied affectionately as she poured me a little more coffee. "They're young, and they like having fun. I hardly think a weekend getaway is going to be a tea party."

Bea burst out laughing, and I ended up joining them, although I couldn't help wondering what kind of trouble awaited us this time.

I suppose growing up also meant discovering that things which had once seemed simple could become complicated in ways we never could have imagined.