I lie back and inhale deeply.
No wonder I’ve been off balance.
I roll, pressing my face into his pillow, breathing him in like oxygen.
My thoughts slow. My pulse steadies.
“This is home,” I murmur, softer this time.
I lift the comforter and slide beneath it, just like I used to do when I snuck inside his room and crawled into his bed.
I roll onto my side, then onto my back, then—because I’m nothing if not thorough—onto my stomach, hugging the pillow like it might run away if I let it.
“I miss you,” I whisper into the fabric. “You’re being very dramatic about this space thing.”
I roll again, tangling myself in his comforter, letting his scent sink into me until the tightness in my chest eases.
This is better. Much better.
My skin hums. Goosebumps cover my skin. My face grows hot lying here, in his bed once again. My panties are even damp.
Which is when the door opens.
“I—what the hell?”
I jolt upright.
Drew stands in the doorway, frozen mid-step, phone dangling uselessly at his side.
We stare at each other.
I’m sprawled across his brother’s bed, clutching a pillow. After rolling in his brother’s scent like a dog.
“Oh,” I say brightly. “Hi.”
He blinks.
Once.
Twice.
“You—” He stops, rubs his face, then looks back at me like he’s checking if he’s hallucinating. “How long have you been in here?”
I consider. “Emotionally? Or physically?”
He groans.
“I swear,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “This is my punishment for getting divorced.”
I sit up fully, smoothing my hair. “You pace very loudly while on the phone. I had to employ evasive maneuvers.”
“Youhid.”
“Yes.”
“In my brother’s house.”
“Yes.”
