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“Fuck this, I’m outta here,” I say and climb out of bed.
I go into the living room and realize I have no blanket because steamroller has my extra one wrapped around her. I whine and pull at my hair. She’s never sleeping here again, fuck this. She can take a cab home next time. Dragging my feet, I stand in front of Tenn’s door. Shit, he’s probably sleeping and I hate to wake him to ask for a blanket, but ugh I need some sleep if I’m going to look halfway decent tomorrow. I tentatively lift my hand and hoover over the door. Blowing out a breath, I lightly knock three times.
Within a second the door flies open. He is shirtless and has on black boxer briefs. I try to not focus on that and instead look into his green eyes. “She hit me in the face and stole my blanket,” I whine.
He chuckles and wraps his muscular arm around my shoulder, leading me into his room. “Come on lay down here. I promise to not hit you or steal your blanket.”
“I don’t want to bother you, Tenn, just give me an extra blanket and I’ll sleep on the couch,” I say, taking in his large queen-sized bed with the most comfortable gray comforter.
“Regan, when will you realize I’d do anything for you? Now get that ass in my bed,” he pauses for minute and winks at me. “I like how that sounds.”
“Tenn, I’m too tired to joke right now,” I say and climb onto his bed, cuddling under the comforter. “Why is your bed so much more comfortable than mine? I should sleep here every night.”
He climbs into bed and rolls on his side looking at me. He tucks a piece of red hair that’s fallen out of m messy bun behind my ear and smiles. “You are always welcome in my bed.”
I wake up when I hear Tenn let out a soft moan close to my ear. I open my eyes looking at the clock and realize he’ll be up soon for the gym, so he must be dreaming. Realizing I’m wrapped in his arms and with my back pressed against his chest, I close my eyes confused because it feels so fucking good.
“Mmmm,” he moans again.
It’s soft and low, sexy as fuck. My pussy thinks so, too, because I can feel it getting wet, and that’s when I feel it. His hard cock pressing against my ass. Oh, for the love of everything holy. It feels meaty. I need to move, I can’t be feeling like this. I move my ass away from him and close my eyes, hoping I can fall back to sleep quickly.
**
“I just pulled up to the restaurant. If he pulls a no show, it is your duty to meet me at any bar I choose,” I say to Holly.
“He’ll be there, but I’ll meet you anytime. Go and remember don’t expect anything, just take what he gives you.”
We hang up, and I toss the phone into my purse. I picked the restaurant this time and it’s very casual, so I’m in jeans and a t-shirt. I wasn’t about to set myself up for failure this time in my favorite dress. Going in I talk to the hostess, and I want to jump up and scream because he’s waiting for me.
She escorts me to the table, and he stands up and extends his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Peter,” he says.
Alright, better already. “Hi Peter, nice to meet you. I’m Regan.”
We sit down, and I take in his looks. He’s not someone who I would have noticed in a crowded room, but he’s good looking. His brown eyes sparkle in the bright lights, and he seems to have a decent body.
“So, tell me a little about yourself,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
I tell him about teaching, my favorite music, crap like that. I try to remember what Tenn taught me and not asking personal or even give away anything too personal. Who knows where this will lead.
“What about you?” I ask once we’ve ordered our drinks.
“I’m a single dad, which I know probably makes you want to run, but she’s awesome,” he says, scratching at his hair.
Actually come to think of it, that’s all he’s been doing. Gross, he must have some nasty dandruff or something. Trying to focus on the conversation, I smile at him. “Wow, how old is she?”
“She’s seven and has me wrapped around her finger.”
Damn, he seems normal. He’s a dad and loves his daughter. It’s kinda sexy. What’s not sexy is his constant itching. What the fuck is wrong with him? His black hair is going in every direction at this point, and I’m starting to get itchy myself.
“She just recently got sent home from school, which of course my ex wasn’t around for so I had to go grab her. Poor girl had never been sent home before,” he says, really digging into his head.
“Why did she get sent home?” I ask, unable to pull my eyes away from his hair.
“Lice,” he says lifting his shoulders.
Realization hits me and my eyes widen. “Oh my God. Peter, you have lice!” I back away from the table a bit.
“No, I don’t. It’s just some dandruff,” he says.
