Yes, I preach the importance of good sleep habits, but it’s more of ado as I say, not as I dosituation. Because being a college student with a full-time job and four roommates does nothing for balancing your circadian rhythm.
I’m a night owl by nature.
So, I did what I did every night back at school. I grabbed an ice-cold soda and headed outside with my phone and a book.
I didn’t expect to find company.
Axle leans against the doorframe of his cabin.
Hair rumpled. A pair of gray jogging pants ride low on his hips. His chest is bare.
I swallow.
Hard.
“Nope.”
His mouth twitches.
“Me neither,” I say as I settle onto the wooden railing.
Then he pushes away from the doorway and steps forward. Straight into the moonlight.
Good grief.
The man looks like he belongs on the cover of a Western romance novel. Broad shoulders. Strong arms. All rough and rugged, but with long lashes and sexy dimples.
It’s annoying.
It’s the middle of the night, for crying out loud. Nobody should be allowed to look that good at almost three in the morning.
I take a sip of soda.
Mostly to give myself something to do besides stare. Though I fail spectacularly. With his ripped abs shamelessly on display like that, what am I supposed to look at?
So, I let myself drink him in. The privacy of the dark deck feels oddly protective. Safe. He can’t possibly know what I’m thinking. At least, I hope not.
He reaches the railing and braces his hands against it.
The moon highlights the hard lines of his shoulders. The strong angle of his jaw. The faint shadow of stubble.
My pulse does something strange.
His gaze drops to the can in my hand.
A grin appears.
“I don’t think the caffeine is gonna help.”
I laugh softly and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “It won’t hurt.”
He raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Nope.”
I take another drink. “Caffeine doesn’t really affect me.”
“Ah. You’re one of those people?”
