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A muscular arm wrapped around her stomach as his warm lips pressed against her shoulder.
“We’ve got to get up soon.” His words vibrated against her skin, and she groaned.
“Don’t tell me you’re a morning person. I’ll have to add that to the list of things I dislike about you.”
“After last night, you can’t claim to dislike me. You spent way too much time moaning my name for me to buy it.” Corey laughed, and as she smacked his chest, he shifted so she fell back against the pillow. Rough fingers brushed against her temple as he tucked a lock of bangs behind her ear. “It’s almost eight thirty. This is not me being a morning person, babydoll.”
Until this point, she had been ignoring his many nicknames. But he needed to learn her lines. “Babydoll?”
He winced. “Yeah, not my favorite either, but nothing sticks, no matter what I try.”
“What’s your normal go-to pet name?”
The sheet rested low on Corey’s hip as he leaned on his elbow. She reached out, letting her finger trace the smooth skin of his chest. Her nail scraped against the ridges of his abs as she waited.
“Corey?” she finally asked as he watched her finger.
“Huh?” He shook his head, but his hand snaked out and grabbed hers before she could let it run any lower down his body. “Cut me some slack here. I know you asked me something. But you’re naked and touching me. I only have so much blood, and none of it’s currently in my brain.”
Taran laughed. “Pet names. You don’t normally use one?”
“Holly, I just always called Holls,” Corey said.
But Taran wasn’t sure who he was talking about. As far as she knew, he dated Beth and Mel. His gaze ran over her face, and he met her eyes. It was another one of those moments where she could tell he was choosing whether to trust her. The odd part was, this time, her heart jumped. It was shocking to realize how much she wanted his trust. “Her real name is Holly Vanderbeek, but Mel Holly is a lot catchier.”
It clicked in her brain.
“I use a fake name too,” Taran agreed, but Corey’s eyes narrowed. “Kuppton. Taran Kuppton.”
“That’s where T-cup comes from.”
“Jeremy started that in high school,” Taran explained.
Corey gave a clipped nod. “Makes sense.”
He didn’t say it, but Taran knew he’d never use it. Like he understood that piece of her former self couldn’t be replaced. Corey made it easy to talk about Jeremy because although he was curious—open to hearing about him—he did it in a way that implied he respected Jeremy’s part in her life.
“So, Holly was Holls, and Beth I always called baby.” He smirked. “I did it a few times to get under Marc’s skin when he and Beth were first dating.”
“It’s surprising you and Marc are so close,” she said.
“Why? Marc’s awesome. She’s a lot with her dramatics and mood swings. It can make a person nuts, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.”
Taran scoffed. “When you put it that way, I can see exactly why you and Marc are friends.”
“Are you implying I’m dramatic?”
“No.” Taran shook her head. “I was outright saying out of you and Beth—you—are way more dramatic and emotional.”
Corey laughed. “Just had to get your pot shot in, bite-size?”
“And we’re back to the crappy nicknames.” She waited for him to add more, but he didn’t. “So what else you got besides Holls and baby?”
He shrugged. “No one else. Trust me, you would have heard a rumor if there was.” Although his tone was casual, he couldn’t mask the bitterness. “Until my parents died, I couldn’t piss without the world hearing about it.”
Corey shut his eyes and tilted his head, cracking his neck left and then right. Something Taran knew meant he was uncomfortable.
