She cups my face in her hands. “Rhett, anything shared between us stays between us. Promise,” she says. “I slept in your shirt last night.”
Relief fills me, and I smile. “Really?”
“I slept inonlyyour shirt.”
The ache below my belt intensifies. “I wish I’d seen that. Imagined it, but I think the real thin’ would be better.”
“Me, too. Like you, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
Damn my nice guy personality. I shouldn’t have told her that she should follow her rule last night. “When you talk like that…”
I stop speaking the moment she climbs off my lap. “Wait here,” she says and disappears down the hallway. The same hallway I know leads to her bedroom.
I want to take my jeans off to help relieve the strain, but I decide to wait until she comes back. No matter how uncomfortable I am, I miss having her weight on me. Her thin frame sets me on fire, and I never want to be put out. It burns so good.
Chapter Thirteen
Brynlee
Standing in front of the floor-length mirror wearing only Rhett’s flannel, I feel the butterflies in my stomach. The blue and black patterned shirt falls down mid-thigh, and I have to roll up the sleeves, but I feel sexy wearing it. It hangs open to show the landing strip I shaved this morning, and I open it to look at my breasts.
“They don’t look fake,” I mutter.
“Did you say somethin’?” Rhett calls.
My eyes are only slightly puffy and red from crying, but I don’t look too bad. I’ve started wearing minimal makeup, so it’s not obvious I’ve cried most of it away.
“You said you’re ready to put a label on things. Does that mean you want to call me your girlfriend?” I call back.
“There are very few things in life I want more, but I’m not pressurin’ you, Brynlee. Whenever you’re ready.”
I smile and lean on the doorframe, my hand holding the shirt closed just around my navel to hide everything important while still showing enough to know what I’m offering. “Can you come here for a second? I need your help with something.”
The couch shifts with his weight, and I move to lean against the post at the foot of the bed. My heart races, my pulse almost deafening in my ears, and the nerves kick in. I never do this. Never, ever.
“What do you need—”
Rhett stops short as he steps into the doorway, his eyes wide. The look he gives me nearly turns me into a puddle of need. Such desire.
“I need help with a few things. First, I need your opinion.”
“O-on what?” His tongue slides out over his lips. “If it’s whether you should wear this all the time, the answer is yes.”
Letting his shirt slide over my shoulders and down to expose my chest, I give him a smile. “Do I look like I’ve had a third-world boob job? The women at the store said so, and I need a second opinion.”
It’s amazing how sure of myself I sound while I feel like jumping beans bounce around on every organ inside me.
“They…” He clears his throat and stares at my hard nipples. “They look fantastic.”
Biting my lip, I look down at myself. “I need help with two other things.”
“Name it.”
“Come here.”
His breathing hitches, and he’s in front of me with two long strides. “What can I do for you?”
Releasing his flannel, I let it fall to the ground. I touch his shirt to pull it from his jeans, and his stomach sucks in as I do. “First, I want you to call me your girlfriend.”
