Give Me Courage (Give Me Series #4)

31 - Idiotic

My reflection in the bathroom mirror stared back at me as I tied the classic red and black flannel around my waist. I swiveled around on the toes of my sneakers, checking out the outfit I built together with the aid of Stiles' clothes. The option to stop at my house for a quick change wasn't possible—

A loud thud sounded from down the hall near Stiles' bedroom. My mental thoughts ceased as I froze in front of the mirror. I wandered out of the bathroom and back to Stiles' room. A small, amused giggle caught in the base of my throat when I returned back to his room and spotted him on the floor by his bed, limbs tangled in the dark blue comforter as he fought to free his body from the blanket.

"Uh, did you fall out of bed?" I asked him and leaded against the door frame with my arms folded over my chest.

His head snapped up from the floor when he heard my voice across the room. "What— Have you—" Stiles pushed himself up on his elbows to peer at the bed, taken aback by the emptiness. "I thought you were next to me."

A second laugh escaped from my lips. "I woke up about thirty minutes ago to get ready," I explained to him.

Stiles rose a brow. "Ready for what?"

My cell phone on the bedside table caught my attention as I walked over to it and plucked from his charger. I lowered myself into a crouch next to his body while I unlocked the screen and searched through my messages. I twisted the phone around in my hand to show Stiles the recent messages from Scott.

Stiles adjusted himself on his elbows and squinted his eyes at the screen.

"He has a plan to find the Benefactor," I told him while he read the messages. "We're supposed to meet at his place in twenty minutes."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Stiles' eyes darted from the screen to my face.

I flashed a mischievous grin. "I was waiting until after I ransacked your clothes."

The answer took Stiles by surprise as he shifted his attention away from my face to the black Star Wars logo shirt I wore with the flannel tied around my face. The left corner of his lips tugged upward in a smile. His eyes stopped traveling down my body when he recognized the black leggings I kept on.

"You should wear my clothes more often," he responded in a softer voice and a twinkle in his eyes.

My own lips transformed into a coy smile and my cheeks grew warm at his genuine declaration. I tapped his chest twice. "You should get ready," I swiftly changed the subject. "Scott needs our help."

Stiles took half the time I took to get ready this morning before we climbed into his beloved Jeep and headed to Scott's house. While I struggled to decide on an outfit with help from his wardrobe, he simply threw on a pair of dark jeans with a green plaid shirt over a brown shirt. He barely even checked to make sure he would match when he pulled the clothing materials over his body.

The atmosphere was quiet within the confines of the jeep. The radio was lowly playing, despite the static of the station going in and out of range. Things were better between the two of us after we talked last night. He explained how he was left in a state of shock after I believed he was my father and how he didn't want to worsen the situation, so he distanced himself immediately.

We talked everything through to the point where we were hiding nothing from each other anymore. Not that we had secrets before, but after that traumatic experience, we wanted to make sure we understood how the other was feeling.