Chapter 425-I Can Punch In My Sleep

Verity:

"We’re going to need pillows," I murmured as we began settling into the room.

Jaguar took off his jacket and tossed it behind the seats.

He sat down for a moment before getting back to his feet and moving to the window.

With both hands gripping the backrest of the seat, he stared at me as though he expected me to explain myself.

"What are you looking at me like that for? I’m right. We need to put something between us," I added, a little more awkwardly this time as I moved toward the other side of the bed.

"And what exactly do you think a pillow is going to do?" he challenged. "If I actually wanted to do something, do you seriously think your pillow would stop me?"

My eyes immediately snapped up to his.

"No, seriously. Apparently, you think I wouldn’t be able to climb over a pillow."

With that, he planted both hands on his hips and glared at me as if he had just made an undeniable point.

"I’m not saying you will, or that you’d even want to," I replied awkwardly. "I’m just saying I don’t know whether you move around in your sleep."

I slipped off my bracelet and placed it on the bedside table beside me.

Ragnar gave a slow nod before walking over to the second chair.

He grabbed it, dragged it across the room, and positioned it right beside his side of the bed.

"Why don’t you sit here and watch me sleep, then? That way, you can find out whether I move around or not. How about we do that?"

I had no idea what had gotten into him tonight, but he was being unbelievably sassy, and not even in an entertaining way.

"Okay, calm down. I’ll just put my bag in the middle," I muttered.

Still, irritation simmered beneath my skin because he could have answered one simple question like a normal person.

If he wanted to give me attitude, fine. I decided I could give it right back.

"You know what? Actually, I should probably warn you that I move my arms and legs a lot in my sleep. So if a punch or kick accidentally lands on you, don’t get mad. And don’t say I didn’t warn you."

I scoffed, delivering the words with just as much attitude without even bothering to look at him.

Then I opened my bag and pulled out my nightclothes, a plain pink top with matching pajama bottoms.

I gathered them against my chest, knowing perfectly well that I was supposed to stay there with him.

But merely being alone with him in that room was already making heat creep through my body, and I wasn’t willing to risk making things any more uncomfortable than they already were.

So I escaped into the bathroom, took a shower, changed, and got ready for bed.

When I came back out, he was standing by the window, staring outside at the river.

I said nothing.

I didn’t try to talk to him or even acknowledge him.

I simply crossed the room to my side of the bed, slipped beneath the covers, and pulled them over my head.

A little while later, I heard his footsteps heading toward the bathroom.

Only then did the tension finally loosen its grip on me.

Then I heard him come out of the bathroom and head toward the door. I wondered what he was doing.

The suite was called the Royal Suite, but it was really just one large bedroom.

It was beautiful, though, with a wide view of the river and the woods stretching beyond it, but that was about all there was to it.

I slowly uncovered my face and let out a deep breath.

My thoughts drifted back home, and I began wondering what might be happening between Theodore and Jaguar.

Could that be why Ragnar was still annoyed with me? Every now and then, I could see his irritation slipping through the cracks.

He had to be angry that I was the reason his brothers were fighting.

Of course he was. He loved them, and they had always been known for sticking together.

Any fracture in their bond would upset him, and it made sense that he would blame me for causing it.

I was still caught up in those thoughts when I heard the door open.

I quickly pulled the covers over my head again.

"I know you’re not sleeping," he complained as his footsteps came closer.

For a moment, I wondered if he was going to yank the blanket off me.

That would have been completely unlike him, though, and before I could dwell on it, I heard something being placed on the bedside table.

His footsteps moved away.

Only then did I uncover my face.

I pushed myself upright, and my eyes landed on a packet of chocolate-covered wafers beside a paper cup of hot chocolate.

The moment I saw them, my mind went completely blank.

The sight of it pulled me straight back to my brother.

He knew that combination had always been my favorite on cold winter nights.

We never had much money, but he would save whatever he could from his lunch money just so he could buy it for me every Saturday night.

And tonight was Saturday.

I kept staring at the wafers and hot chocolate before slowly turning toward Ragnar.

He was sitting in the chair, drinking from a beer can.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused.

"It’s non-alcoholic," he added, lifting the can slightly, probably assuming that was what I was worried about.

His way of telling me he wasn’t going to get drunk.

That I was safe.

"No, it’s just..." I smiled faintly, looking back at the food. "This combination."

His brows drew together as he tilted his head. He always did that whenever he noticed something was off.

Maybe it was the tears gathering in my eyes.

"What about it?" he asked softly, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, the beer can now cradled between both hands.

"Justin used to get me this."

I quickly turned back toward the bedside table and reached for the cup, pretending to busy myself with it.

The truth was, I was trying to hide my tears.

"You miss him a lot, don’t you?" Ragnar asked, his voice gentler now.