She slips her hand into mine. “I don’t want you to.”
My fingers tighten around hers almost instinctively. “We’re still too buzzed to be making any kind of major decisions. I’m not going to sleep with you tonight if there’s even a chance you might regret it in the morning.” That might be the thing that finally does me in.
“We don’t have to do anything, Nick. I just want to wake up next to you.”
She might as well have punched me in the chest because it takes a second before I’m able to breathe.
“What are you really saying, Jess?”
She shrugs, the motion causing her shirt to slip off her shoulder. “I’m saying we don’t have to make any major decisions tonight, but I’m also saying I can’t stomach the thought of you sleeping on the floor.”
“Because it might strain my old-man back?”
“Because I would rather have you next to me.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment, hoping it might stave off the headache I can feel building at my temples. I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the blue balls or the way her words are twisting up my brain, but I need it to go away. “Okay.” I cave because of course I do. I always do when it comes to her.
We both settle into our assigned sides of the bed,keeping a fair amount of distance between us, but forgoing the pillow barrier. I take a long swig of water and turn out my light, burrowing under the covers and leaving my back to her. I have my limits, and tonight, mine are not looking at her hair spilling across the pillow, or the small smile that always tugs on her lips when she’s sleeping, like she’s having the most pleasant of dreams.
“Good night, Nick,” she whispers. Her light clicks off and the room falls into darkness.
“Good night, Jess.” I close my eyes, even though I know sleep isn’t going to find me tonight. It’s easier to let the darkness swallow me from the inside out.
The red numbers of the hotel alarm clock inform me it’s just after three in the morning when my eyes pop back open, my bladder protesting for relief, my mouth dry.
I slip out of bed and pad as quietly as possible to the bathroom, where I relieve myself before sticking my mouth under the tap and drinking for a solid two minutes. I swig some mouthwash and swallow some aspirin and feel markedly better.
Tiptoeing back to my side of the bed, I climb in between the sheets as slowly as possible, hoping not to jostle Jess out of her sleep. But her eyes flutter open and she smiles at me sleepily. I wait for the realization to overtake her, for her to remember just where we are and why.
But her smile doesn’t fade.
In fact, as I nestle back under the covers, she scoots over to my side of the bed, tucking herself into the crook of my arm. My hand immediately finds its way into her hair,scratching her scalp and tugging gently on the roots, the way she always liked.
She groans, burrowing closer into my chest. Her fingers trace light circles on the bare skin of my stomach, and never has a more innocent touch been so arousing.
“How are you feeling?” My voice is husky, made more so by the torture her fingers are delivering to my skin.
“I feel fine.” She tilts her chin up to look me in the eye. “I told you I wasn’t drunk, you know.”
“I know, and I believed you, but I woke up with a sore head.”
She props her chin on my chest. “I guess I just hold my liquor better than you. Though I do need to use the bathroom.”
She scoots out of bed and flits into the restroom, returning a minute later and sliding right back into my embrace.
I let out the breath I’d been holding in since she got up, unsure if her escaping the bed was going to break some kind of spell.
She sighs, her breath tickling my chest. “I forgot how good you are at cuddling.”
My fingers resume their trail through the strands of her hair. “It is one of my better traits.”
We sit in silence for a moment, but it’s comfortable, and peaceful.
“I don’t really know what we’re doing here, Nick.” Her voice is so soft I barely hear her, and probably wouldn’t if she weren’t so close.
“I don’t either, but you’re in control here. This can bewhatever you want it to be. Or whatever you don’t want it to be.” My hold on her tightens without me having to think about it.
“I want you,” she whispers, an admission that could easily be lost in the night.
