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Once he’s towelled himself off, he wraps the towel around his waist, securing it in place before lifting his blue eyes to me.
“Come here, beautiful.”
I step out of the shower, and he takes my towel before proceeding to dry my body.
“Uh… I can do that myself, you know. I graduated from shower skills in like grade one or something.”
Ty chuckles. “Let me take care of you while I have you to myself.”
I shrug and grin. “Suit yourself.”
And he does. He slowly dries my body, arms and legs, getting down on one knee to lift my foot and dry that, too. It’s intimate, what he’s doing with me. Taking care of me. Almost as if he’s worshipping me. My face heats at the thought, but he doesn’t notice this time. His eyes focused on the area he’s drying.
I want to tell him I love him. It’s still a strange concept to me, but for some reason, I can’t say the words to him. It’s my self-doubt rearing its ugly head, trying to control me. So I try to shut it down.
I’m surprised when he uses the towel to dry off my dripping hair, and when he’s done, he sweeps my long locks over my shoulder to press his lips to my neck.
“I love seeing you like this, Kitten. Your natural beauty is breathtaking.”
And now my legs turn to jelly. Fuck, he knows exactly how to make me putty in his hands. I typically hate compliments, yet here I am, loving his words. Loving him.
Ty leads me back to his bedroom, going to his drawer and pulling out one of his Nike t-shirts before tugging it over my head and helping me thread my arms into it.
“I want you in my clothes.” He rasps, and I grin. It’s such a guy thing. Ayden does the same with Lexi. I wonder if I say I want him in my clothes if he’d comply? I smirk inwardly at the stupid thought. Maybe now is a good time to tell him I stole his red soccer jersey?
Ty turns and changes the bedsheets quickly, and I step in to help him, my heart fluttering at the domestic task we share together.
By the time we slip under the covers, exhaustion sweeps over me and Ty notices, pulling me close as we wrap tight in each other's arms.
“You ok, Kitten?” His voice is quiet, a hint of concern in his tone.
I nod against his chest, inhaling his unique Ty scent. “Is it bad that I don’t want the morning to come?”
“No. Not bad. I feel the same way.” He presses his lips to the top of my head, and I squeeze him tight, never wanting to let go.
I try not to think about today’s events and focus on what we shared here tonight. It was perfect. The only thing that would make it even more perfect would be if I were wrapped in the loving arms of Marc, Shaun, Garrett and Sy, too.
I sleep heavily, almost like I pass out or something, and morning comes way too quickly, a loud banging startling us both from sleep. Ty sits up, scrubbing a hand over his face as he checks his phone on the table next to his bed.
“Christ. Your mum’s already here. It’s only seven.”
She must have sent him a message. Hopefully she’s not accompanied by police officers. I don’t think I could handle that right now.
The banging sounds again, and I groan while Ty chuckles at me.
“I’ve just sent her a message to say we are getting up.” Ty does just that, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up into a stretch before turning his glorious front to me. Fuck. A girl could get used to seeing that every morning. “Come out in a few minutes, Kitten. Take your time.” Leaning down, Ty kisses my forehead, but I loop my arms around his neck and drag him back down to the bed. Chuckling, he squirms but accepts the kiss I give him, relaxing on top of me.
“You’re not helping my morning wood right now, Kitten,” Ty mumbles against my lips, and I giggle.
“Can’t we pretend she’s not here? She might go away.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure she’d break down my door. Never underestimate a mother’s fury, Kitten.” He bops my nose as he rises off the bed, leaving me feeling cold and empty. I pout, and he chuckles, stepping into a grey pair of sweatpants before shooting me a wink and leaving me in his bed to let my mum into his apartment.
I take a moment to lie there in his sheets, wishing away all of our problems so we can be left alone to enjoy each other. But of course, Cynthia Rogan smashes away the little daydream as her loud voice floats down the hall to the bedroom.
“Get up, Rhys! We don’t have time to drag our feet today.”
Ugh! FML!
