Whisper - Chapter 116: Chapter 116
You are reading Whisper, Chapter 116: Chapter 116. Read more chapters of Whisper.
Drunken Confessions – 1
( Connor's POV )
I watched Olivia sleep, her face peaceful in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She looked so vulnerable, so different from the fiercely independent woman I knew her to
Just as I was about to leave her bedroom, she stirred, her honey – brown hair splaying across the pillow. Her slender fingers suddenly reached out, catching my shirt sleeve with surprising strength.
"Don't go," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and lingering intoxication. "Tell me a ... Grey ..."
I froze, ice flooding my veins. Had she just called out for Grey? Ethan Grey?
My jaw clenched involuntarily, jealousy flaring hot and sharp through my chest. After everything that man had put her through, after the way he'd treated her as a replacement for his first love, she was still calling his name in her sleep?
"Liv," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "What did you say?"
She tugged at my sleeve again, her amber eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. "Story," she mumbled more clearly. "Tell me a story ... like when we were little ..."
Relief washed through me like a physical force. Not "Grey" but a request for a story – a bedtime ritual from our childhood. I felt a smile tugging at my lips, amusement replacing the sharp sting of jealousy.
"You want a bedtime story?" I asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed cheek.
She nodded sleepily, her grip on my sleeve not loosening. "Like before ..."
My heart swelled with tenderness. Even drunk, she remembered our shared past- how I'd read to her when we were young, during her visits to Riverdale.
I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her honey – brown hair cascaded over my arm as I carried her toward the bathroom. She needed to clean up before properly going to bed.
"Con?" she murmured against my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
"I'm here," I assured her, my voice low and soothing. "Let's get you cleaned up first, then I'll tell you a story."
She nodded drowsily, her head nestling trustingly against my shoulder. The simple gesture of faith touched something deep within me, awakening every protective instinct I possessed.
The bathroom light seemed harsh after the dimness of the bedroom. I set Olivia down carefully on the closed toilet lid, keeping one hand on her shoulder to steady her as I turned on the shower.
"Can you manage?" I asked, testing the water temperature with my free hand.
She blinked up at me, her amber eyes unfocused. "Don't think so," she admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh.
I swallowed hard, my wolf stirring restlessly within me. This wasn't how I'd imagined essing her for the first time, but her wellbeing came first. Always.
nfinite gentleness, I helped her out of her clothes, my touch clinical and ectful despite my wolf's possessive growls. I averted my eyes as much as possible, preserving her dignity even in her vulnerable state.
The shower was quick and efficient. I kept her steady with one arm while washing her hair with my free hand, the familiar scent of her honey – almond shampoo filling the steamy bathroom.
"You're good at this," she murmured as I wrapped her in a fluffy towel afterward.
"I've had practice," I replied softly, thinking of the times I'd cared for pack members after injuries or during illness.
After drying her off, I helped her into clean pajamas I found in her dresser – soft cotton things with little moons printed on them. They looked adorably innocent on her, a stark contrast to the sophisticated lawyer she presented to the world.
Once she was settled back in bed, I pulled the covers up to her chin. "Now, about that story," I said, reaching for my phone.
Her amber eyes brightened despite her drowsiness. "Really?"
I nodded, scrolling through my phone until I found a collection of short stories I'd downloaded months ago. I'd never admitted it to anyone, but I'd gotten them thinking of her, remembering how she'd loved being read to as a child.
"Once upon a time," I began, my deep voice filling the quiet room, "there was a white wolf who lived at the edge of a great forest ..."
I read until her breathing evened out, her features relaxing into peaceful slumber. Even then, I continued for a while longer, savoring this rare moment of unguarded intimacy between us.
When I was certain she was deeply asleep, I carefully set my phone aside. I couldn't leave her alone, not when she was this vulnerable. But I also wouldn't take advantage of the situation by sleeping beside her without her explicit consent.
( Connor's POV )
I watched Olivia sleep, her face peaceful in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She looked so vulnerable, so different from the fiercely independent woman I knew her to
Just as I was about to leave her bedroom, she stirred, her honey – brown hair splaying across the pillow. Her slender fingers suddenly reached out, catching my shirt sleeve with surprising strength.
"Don't go," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and lingering intoxication. "Tell me a ... Grey ..."
I froze, ice flooding my veins. Had she just called out for Grey? Ethan Grey?
My jaw clenched involuntarily, jealousy flaring hot and sharp through my chest. After everything that man had put her through, after the way he'd treated her as a replacement for his first love, she was still calling his name in her sleep?
"Liv," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. "What did you say?"
She tugged at my sleeve again, her amber eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. "Story," she mumbled more clearly. "Tell me a story ... like when we were little ..."
Relief washed through me like a physical force. Not "Grey" but a request for a story – a bedtime ritual from our childhood. I felt a smile tugging at my lips, amusement replacing the sharp sting of jealousy.
"You want a bedtime story?" I asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed cheek.
She nodded sleepily, her grip on my sleeve not loosening. "Like before ..."
My heart swelled with tenderness. Even drunk, she remembered our shared past- how I'd read to her when we were young, during her visits to Riverdale.
I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her honey – brown hair cascaded over my arm as I carried her toward the bathroom. She needed to clean up before properly going to bed.
"Con?" she murmured against my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
"I'm here," I assured her, my voice low and soothing. "Let's get you cleaned up first, then I'll tell you a story."
She nodded drowsily, her head nestling trustingly against my shoulder. The simple gesture of faith touched something deep within me, awakening every protective instinct I possessed.
The bathroom light seemed harsh after the dimness of the bedroom. I set Olivia down carefully on the closed toilet lid, keeping one hand on her shoulder to steady her as I turned on the shower.
"Can you manage?" I asked, testing the water temperature with my free hand.
She blinked up at me, her amber eyes unfocused. "Don't think so," she admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh.
I swallowed hard, my wolf stirring restlessly within me. This wasn't how I'd imagined essing her for the first time, but her wellbeing came first. Always.
nfinite gentleness, I helped her out of her clothes, my touch clinical and ectful despite my wolf's possessive growls. I averted my eyes as much as possible, preserving her dignity even in her vulnerable state.
The shower was quick and efficient. I kept her steady with one arm while washing her hair with my free hand, the familiar scent of her honey – almond shampoo filling the steamy bathroom.
"You're good at this," she murmured as I wrapped her in a fluffy towel afterward.
"I've had practice," I replied softly, thinking of the times I'd cared for pack members after injuries or during illness.
After drying her off, I helped her into clean pajamas I found in her dresser – soft cotton things with little moons printed on them. They looked adorably innocent on her, a stark contrast to the sophisticated lawyer she presented to the world.
Once she was settled back in bed, I pulled the covers up to her chin. "Now, about that story," I said, reaching for my phone.
Her amber eyes brightened despite her drowsiness. "Really?"
I nodded, scrolling through my phone until I found a collection of short stories I'd downloaded months ago. I'd never admitted it to anyone, but I'd gotten them thinking of her, remembering how she'd loved being read to as a child.
"Once upon a time," I began, my deep voice filling the quiet room, "there was a white wolf who lived at the edge of a great forest ..."
I read until her breathing evened out, her features relaxing into peaceful slumber. Even then, I continued for a while longer, savoring this rare moment of unguarded intimacy between us.
When I was certain she was deeply asleep, I carefully set my phone aside. I couldn't leave her alone, not when she was this vulnerable. But I also wouldn't take advantage of the situation by sleeping beside her without her explicit consent.
End of Whisper Chapter 116. Continue reading Chapter 117 or return to Whisper book page.