“Good.” His eyes do a slow sweep down my body, and his smile grows.
There’s no way my pink holiday pajamas with candy canes and cutesy presents arethatentertaining.
“Okay, what is it?” I fold my arms across my chest. “What did you find?”
“Nothing embarrassing.” He shakes his head. “Though I am curious, are you more of a Justin or a JC girl?”
“Oh my gods.” I groan and rush over to fling my closet door the rest of the way open.
There in its eternal glory is my altar to NSYNC, composed of magazine articles and promotional images I printed out on our family printer and then secured to the back of the door with a mix of bright pink and blue decorative tape.
Maybe it would have been better if he had found my diary after all.
“They were very popular.” Asher says.
I sigh and then level my finger at him, “You don’t get to judge me. You have boy band hair.”
“What do you mean I haveboy bandhair?”
“It’s all wavy and shiny and effortlessly falls into your eyes” I flail out a pantomime.
“Is that the reason you like me?” There’s a deeper, almost teasing quality to his voice which sends a rush of heat to my stomach.
“One of many, actually.” I blurt out.
Our eyes meet, and his playful expression is gone, replaced with something more serious. As though I’d called his bluff and we’d both ended up showing our cards. The truth catches in my throat, and I’m stuck in his gaze like a deer in headlights, counting out the seconds before my next breath.
This time, Asher is the first to crack. He blinks and looks away, “So I was thinking you should take the bed and I will sleep on the floor.”
"What? Why?" I follow his gaze to my full XL mattress, which was always enough space for my 5’3” self, but might be a tight fit for both me and Asher. With a bit of human Tetris, I’m sure we can manage. “Someone could walk in, and then I’d have to explain why you were banished to the floor.”
There is a ghost of a smile as he nods to himself, “Yeah, you’re right. Get in first and get comfortable, and I’ll turn out the light.”
I slide under the covers, the cotton sheets are cool against my bare calves. It takes everything in me to resist the urge to rub my legs together and burrow under the blanket like a nest. Instead, I roll over onto my side and stare out the window at the snow-capped trees, bright from the full moon.
Asher turns off the light then the other side of the mattress sinks down and I’m enveloped in his muscular arms. His breath feathers against my ear, “Is this okay?”
“Uh-huh,” I murmur, my body going as stiff as a board.
“Mmm, good.” He sighs and then drapes his arm across my stomach and pulls me closer against his chest.
It feels amazing. I wanna stay here with him, in this exact position, for the rest of my life. However, there is one slight problem. I can’t sleep.
I’m wired from the mix of excitement and anxiety from today to the point my body wants to jump up and do a couple of laps around the house, preferably barefoot in the snow. To make matters worse, based on the steady rhythm of Asher’s breathing, he’s already crashed out.
There is no other option but to stay perfectly still and count sheep until exhaustion takes me.
“Penny?” Asher murmurs. The sound is too close to a moan; it momentarily short-circuits my brain. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m having trouble falling asleep.”
“What helps?” His fingers trace lazy circles against my stomach.
Don’t say, masturbating. Do not say masturbating.
“Princess.”
The combination of the stern tone in his voice and the nickname causes the response to fly out of my mouth. “I usually masturbate.”
