The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 209

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

While You Were Sleeping

ZANE

Sleep never came.

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Sometime after midnight I closed my eyes, telling myself it should have been easy. Astra was safe. Silas Mercer was dead. Enough security surrounded the estate that getting near her was almost impossible.

None of it helped.

The slightest shift from her pulled me fully awake. A change in her breathing. Her foot moving under the covers. It was ridiculous, and knowing that changed nothing.

The room stayed dark, moonlight cutting a thin line across the floor. Astra remained curled against me, one arm across my stomach, cheek pressed to my chest. Somehow Patches had wedged himself tightly between us, his badly stitched face digging into my ribs.

I left him there. The bear had been through enough.

Her hair had spread everywhere in sleep, covering half my chest and most of the pillow. A few strands clung to her lips. I brushed them away carefully, and my fingers lingered against her cheek.

Warm.

I checked the faint warmth of her breath against my skin before I could stop myself, then pulled my hand back.

Christ.

If Astra ever caught me checking whether she was still breathing, she’d never let me live it down. The thought should have embarrassed me. Instead I found myself hoping she got the chance.

Sleep was useless after that. I stared into the dark, listening to her breathe, wondering why having her back hadn’t quieted anything. This was what I’d wanted, yet every time my eyes closed the same image waited: the gun against her temple, the shot, and that endless second when I hadn’t known where the bullet went.

My teeth ground together.

Astra stirred. Her brows drew together as her head shifted restlessly against my chest.

“No…”

Whatever had been running through my head ceased to matter.

“No, please…”

“Astra.”

Her breathing quickened. The hand on my stomach tightened in my shirt.

12:06 Fri, Aug 21

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

“Trouble.” I turned toward her, threading my fingers carefully into her hair. “You’re home.”

Another frightened sound slipped out of her. I drew her closer without sudden movement.

“It’s me.”

She burrowed against my chest like she was trying to escape whatever had found her in her sleep.

“Zane…”

Hearing my name like that hurt somewhere I couldn’t fucking reach.

“Yeah.” I ran my hand slowly along her back. “I’m right here.”

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It took a while, but her grip loosened. Her breathing lost its frantic edge. The tension eased until she rested quietly against me again.

She never woke.

I kept my arm around her and watched the darkness beyond the window thin into the first gray light of morning.

So much for sleep.

I’d spent the entire night making sure she kept breathing and nearly losing my mind every time she moved. Completely normal behavior. Then again, when it came to Astra, normal had never interested me much.

My phone vibrated against the nightstand. I grabbed it before a second buzz could wake her.

6:42 a.m.

Mom: Your father is awake, he wants to see you.

I kept one arm around Astra while typing with the other.

Me: Later.

Mom: Zane.

Me: She’s sleeping.

The typing bubble appeared, vanished, then returned.

Mom: Nadine can stay nearby. Security is all over the estate. She won’t be alone.

She still didn’t get it.

Mom: He asked for you specifically.

That gave me pause.

12:07 Fri, Aug 21

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

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Dad and I didn’t seek each other out unless one of us had something unpleasant to say. Most of our conversations turned into arguments or lectures about whatever terrible decision I’d made most recently.

But last night he’d been shot. I’d seen him on that concrete floor with blood soaking through his hand, and I’d run straight past him to get to Astra. I’d do the same thing again without hesitation. That didn’t mean seeing him like that hadn’t fucked with me.

My attention returned to the girl curled against my chest. Leaving her now felt wrong in a way I couldn’t explain. She could wake from another nightmare, open her eyes without knowing where she was, or reach across the bed expecting to find me there.

Dad was awake with Mom beside him. For now that was enough.

Me: I’ll come when she wakes up.

Nearly a minute passed.

Mom: Okay.

I set the phone facedown just as Astra stretched in her sleep and draped a leg over mine.

Seriously?

At some point she’d claimed almost the entire mattress. She was sprawled halfway across me while I occupied a pathetic strip along the edge, one bad decision away from the floor.

A million dollars wouldn’t have convinced me to move.

My fingers found their way back into her hair as pale morning light crept around the curtains.

By the time a soft knock came at the door, I’d lost track of how long I’d been lying there.

Every nerve fired at once.

“Who is it?”

A brief silence.

“Nadine.”

“Don’t come in.”

“…I wasn’t planning to.”

Fair enough.

“She brought breakfast,” Astra mumbled into my chest.

My attention dropped to her, but her eyes stayed closed.

“You’re awake?”

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12:07 Fri, Aug 21

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

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“No.”

A sleepy crease appeared between her brows.

“Then how are you talking?”

“I’m not.”

A laugh nearly escaped me. “You need to eat.”

Her only response was an unintelligible sound before she buried her face deeper against me and abandoned the conversation.

“Astra.”

Nothing. She was out again.

I glanced toward the door. “Leave it outside.”

“All right.”

Nadine’s footsteps faded down the hallway. I returned my attention to the sleepy little thing wrapped around me like I was the safest place in the world.

“So much for breakfast.”

She didn’t even twitch.

The morning dragged on. Amusement gave way to concern. The hospital had cleared her and God knew she needed the rest, but that didn’t stop me from checking the steady rise and fall of her chest more often than any sane person would.

Each time I told myself it would be the last.

It never was.

Another message from Mom arrived later. Dad remained stable and was still asking for me. I promised I’d come eventually, though the girl practically fused to my side made “eventually” a very flexible concept.

By noon sunlight had brightened the edges of the curtains. Astra had slept more than fourteen hours. I hadn’t left the bed once.

Hunger should have driven me downstairs. A shower would have been nice. Dad was waiting at the hospital, and sooner or later he was going to want an explanation for why I’d ignored an entire tactical team and broken into the house myself.

All of it could wait.

The first sign she was finally waking came when her fingers twitched against my chest. They wandered lazily over my shirt before resting, and a moment later she drew a deeper breath.

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The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

I watched her eyes gradually open.

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For a few seconds she seemed content to stare at my shirt while her mind caught up. Then she noticed Patches squashed between us, took in the familiar room, and tipped her head back.

Those sleepy bright blue eyes met mine.

“Morning.”

Her brows drew together as she registered the sunlight.

“What time is it?”

“A little after twelve.”

Her head whipped toward me. “What?”

“You slept for about fifteen hours.”

“There’s no way.”

Astra pushed herself onto one elbow, only to wince and sink back against me. My arm tightened around her waist before she could try again.

“Easy.”

“Fifteen hours?” she repeated, rubbing a hand over her face. “Oh my God.”

“You needed the sleep.”

She started to respond, then seemed to notice our position for the first time. Her attention traveled from the hand at her waist to our tangled legs before returning to my face.

“You stayed.”

The surprise in her voice got under my skin. Like there had ever been a chance of me leaving after she’d asked me to stay.

“You asked me to.”

“Until I fell asleep, Zane. I meant maybe twenty minutes.”

“I took some liberties with the instructions.”

A small smile touched her mouth, but it didn’t last. She studied me more closely.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“Enough.”

“That means no.”

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12:07 Fri, Aug 21

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

“It means you worry too much.”

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Her expression told me exactly what she thought of that answer, but before she could push further something

else occurred to her.

“Mr. Ashton. How is he?”

Of course. Barely awake and Dad was already on her mind.

“He’s okay. Mom’s been sending updates all morning. He’s awake, stable, and giving the hospital staff enough trouble that I assume he’ll survive.”