“Strange, I thought I was the one who made things weird,” she says, a smile laced in her words. “But please don’t go. You’re ri—I’m freezing and I could really use your body heat.”
“Okay.” I gather closer, slow and careful. My arm curves above her head, my other hand finds her hip. A sliver of delicate bare skin sears my fingertips where her shirt has ridden up. My thumb brushes her exposed middrift. She jolts—just a little. I wait for her to pull away, but she doesn’t instead, her feet intertwine with mine. “You’re lucky I’m more concerned about warming you up, or I’d point out that you weredefinitelyabout to admit that I was right,again.”
I lean in against her, enough that I begin to drown in her scent. Sugar. Rose. She’s everything sweet and good. It’s a welcome relief from the musty odor of the room.
“You’re insufferable,” she mutters grumpily, but the way she leans into me, her body softening with each passing moment, gives her away.
My fingers graze up and down her arm. Goosebumps raise there. She shivers.
“I could keep you warmer if you turned into me,” I whisper. “Hold on, though.”
Reluctantly, I draw back. All I’ve wanted to do for the past few years is hold this woman, and here I am, chancing that she won’t let me back in after a few seconds away. I don’t care, I need to keep her warm over everything else.
A small whimper comes from Natalie.
“I’ll be right back.” I laugh and savor the sound of her missing me. Finally. “You don’t have to worry about missing me too much.”
“I changed my mind. Go sleep on the quilt, please.”
“And risk you shivering yourself to death?”
“Imagine how peaceful your mornings would be.”
“I’d choose you over peace any day,” I say, reaching up and pulling my black thermal over my head. “I love waking up to you. It’s my favorite part of the day.”
“Your favorite part. Hah! That’s really—” Natalie turns to face me. Moonlight streaming in through a cracked blind catch her cheekbones, painting them in a silver hue and sparkling in her red hair. She looks like a goddamn fairy. Her slate eyes take a slow, deliberate sweep of my torso. Since I’m shameless and pathetic, she’s seen me shirtless plenty of times. Caden mocks me mercilessly but when she’s over for breakfast, I always run some product through my hair, put my contacts in, and take off my shirt before walking out into the kitchen to see her. I’ve clung to those five seconds where she checks me out every morning for so long.
But she’s never looked at me like this. Pupils overtake her irises. Her teeth bite her lower lip. “Funny.” The final word to her sentence falls out of her mouth.
I smirk. “Come here, funny girl,” I say, climbing back into bed and sliding my arm under her. I pull her in tight against me. Her skin meets mine and heat explodes between us.
I glide my hand up and down her back. Parts of me that have been screaming for years finally quiet, and I exhale for the first time in forever.
“Cole?” She whispers. Her lips are hovering teasingly close. If I lower my head, I could brush my lips against hers. Take them. Claim them. Show her what I really feel about her.
“Yeah?” I say, clearing my throat.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Because you’ve owned me since I first saw you. Because you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be around. I trace my thumb over the sliver of silver on her cheek. “Because you’re finally letting me.”
“Would it be okay if I…kept…letting you?”
“Yeah, D’Amore. I’d really like that.”
“About last night,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I clearly misread your signs and I promise not to confuse you being nice to me with actual flirting.”
“You didn’t confuse anything. I’m always flirting with you, tiger.”
“You are?”
I keep brushing my thumb over her cheek, her face feels impossibly right in my palm. “Yeah. I just didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were drunk.”
“Oh.”
A beat. She lifts her chin. I lower my head.
“I’m sober now,” she says.
