My Stepbrother Wants Me-Chapter 129: Sleep, Cat

Catherine’s POV

I lay in bed, staring at the molding of the ceiling, my mind a chaotic carousel of the day’s events. Julisn and I weren’t able to figure out what Richard and Lucy talked about.

Just as I felt the first pull of exhaustion, I got a notification from my phone. I picked it and squinted at the screen, it was A text from Kiera.

Kiera [11:14 PM]: Oh, so the King and Queen are back from their "royal tour" and I have to find out from Channel 4 News? Cool. Glad to know where I stand in Catherine Vaughn’s life. And do not tell me that your phone is broken, or maybe Richard confiscated your vocal cords.

The "Richard" part made me laugh a little, even though I felt guilty too. I hadn’t reached out to her since I returned and that’s because I didn’t remember she existed, which spoke very ill of me.

I should have messaged her, especially since she’s been helping me out with a lot of my problems. I sat up, my thumb hovering over the keypad. I didn’t want to text, that would be disrespectful on my part. I also needed to hear her voice and understand how deep her anger had gotten.

I hit her contact and dialed.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.

I frowned but didn’t give up. I called again.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail.

She wasn’t taking my call and I knew for a fact that it was intentional. Was she this angry? As much as I knew, Kiera has always been very understanding and forgiving, but everyone had their breaking point, so it was normal for her to react this way.

I decided to try one last time and on the third try, just as I was about to give up and record a frantic apology, she answered.

"Kiera, I am so, so sorry," I blurted out before she could even say hello. "Everything has been insane. My parents arrived with any of us expecting them, and then there was this press conference. Richard has also been on our necks. I didn’t mean to shut you out, I swear. I just—"

A loud burst of laughter rang out from the other end of the phone.

"Cat, oh my god, breathe!" Kiera said, still cackling on the other end. "I was totally messing with you. I saw your face on the news today; you looked like you were being held at gunpoint. I could tell that you were in deep shit."

I let out a long, shaky breath, sinking back against my pillows. "You’re not mad?"

"Of course not, you dork," she said, her voice softening into her usual warm tone. "I know how they are. Remember I told you I have heard a lot about Richard. He doesn’t just ’arrive,’ he occupies. I just wanted to poke the bear and make sure you were still alive. How are you holding up? Truly?"

"I’m... I’m tired, Kiera. It feels like every time I find my footing, Richard moves the floor. And there’s Lucy again, she’s met with Richard, and it doesn’t feel good... everything’s a mess."

"She met Richard?" Kiera hummed. "Yikes. Sounds like a setup for a very bad slasher movie. Listen, don’t let them choke you out. You’re Catherine, not a Vaughn prop. Remember that."

"I’m trying," I whispered.

"Get some sleep, Cat. You sound like you’re running on fumes. We’ll do lunch soon, so we can talk about Richard and Lucy, maybe even come up with another smart ass plan for the two of them. My treat."

My face lightened up. Hearing her talk about us making plans felt relieving. "Thanks, Kiera. I really needed that."

I hung up, feeling a fraction of the weight lift from my chest, then I set my phone to ’Do Not Disturb,’ curled under the heavy duvet, and finally let sleep take me.

—-

I don’t know how much time passed.

The transition from deep sleep to consciousness was jarring. It wasn’t a sound that woke me, but a disturbing change in the room. My skin prickled with the sudden instinct that someone was in here with me.

I sat up abruptly, a scream already gathering in my throat, my eyes frantically searching the shadows of my bedroom. I saw a dark figure streaming through the doors.

"Who’s there?" I gasped, my voice thin with terror.

"It’s me," a low, rasping voice replied.

The figure stepped into the pale light. I already recognized him though, before he spoke. It was Julian. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were red, I could tell he had been smoking.

"Julian? Stop scaring the life out of me," I whispered, clutching the duvet to my chest. My heart was still pounding against my ribs. "What are you doing in here? It’s... what time is it?"

"Late," he said softly. He didn’t move toward me; he just stood by the edge of the bed, looking at me with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. "I couldn’t sleep."

He looked so fragile in that moment, the ’Ice Prince’ mask completely shattered.

"I know what you are going through but still... you should have knocked," I said, though there was no real anger in my voice. "What if I screamed or hit you?"

"I didn’t think about any of those. I just wanted you by my side. I have been standing by your door for twenty minutes," he admitted, a ghost of a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. "I didn’t want to wake you. I just... can’t help wanting to be with you."

He took a tentative step closer, then sat on the very edge of the mattress. The bed dipped under his weight. I reached out, my hand finding his. His skin was ice-cold.

"Go back to sleep, Catherine," he murmured, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. "I didn’t mean to wake you up. I want to watch you sleep. I hope it’s not a big deal to you?"

"Julian, you can’t just sit here in the dark," I said, though I found myself leaning toward him.

"Why not? It’s the only place I feel like I can breathe." He leaned in, his forehead coming to rest against mine. His breath smelled of smoke and the tang of the scotch he had probably been pushing on himself all night. "The few minutes I stood watching you felt very peaceful, Catherine. You are so beautiful, so please just let me enjoy this."

He shifted, his hand moving from my wrist to the side of my neck, his thumb grazing my jawline. The touch was feather-light, almost hesitant. Before I could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

It wasn’t like the usual kiss-starved kisses; there was no fire, no desperate hunger. It was soft, and soul binding. When he pulled away, he stayed close, his eyes searching mine.

"Lie down," he whispered.

I obeyed. He pulled the duvet up to my chin, tucking me in with so much gentleness.

"Make sure you dream of me," he muttered, pecking my forehead. My eyes were closed but I forced myself to not sleep, waiting to see when he would leave.

I could feel him watching me and until I truly fell asleep, Julian didn’t leave.