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Thirteen
Light filtered in through slits in her eyelids, but that wasn’t what woke Sabrina the next morning. It was the tickling sensation against her forearm that beckoned her toward the sun. When that tickling climbed higher up her arm, she shivered and popped her eyes open.
Goose bumps decorated her arm and the tickling sensation was courtesy of the tip of a dry paintbrush. Flynn dragged the brush over her collarbone and down over the top of her breasts. She was only slightly alarmed to find she was still naked.
The man currently painting her with shudders had made her shudder plenty last night before they fell asleep side by side in his very big bed. It’d been a long time since she’d had sex. The physical act of making love was amazing. Almost as amazing as the man she’d made love with.
Flynn’s stubble shifted as his smile took over his face. He was a glorious sight. His messy hair was bathed in Seattle’s morning sun. His blue eyes dipped to follow the path of the paintbrush down and over the crest of her breast. She smiled, drugged by this stunning new facet of their relationship.
“You’re dressed,” she croaked, her morning voice in full effect. “No fair.”
“I picked up coffee and croissants. Thought I’d wake you before you slept the day away. And before your coffee went cold.”
“What time is it?”
“Little after eleven.”
“Eleven!” She bolted upright in bed and looked around for a clock. Not finding one, she pressed a button on her phone. 11:14 a.m. “Wow. I never sleep this late.”
His grin endured and she narrowed one eye.
“Don’t be cocky.”
“Hard not to be.” He stood and slid the paintbrush into his back pocket. “Come on. Breakfast awaits.”
She didn’t know where he bought the croissants, but they were the best she’d ever tasted. Especially with strawberry jam and a healthy dollop of butter. The coffee was perfection, and she had the passing thought that this would be a splendid way to spend every morning.
“You seem to have settled into your hiatus okay,” she teased.
“You had a lot to do with that.” He slathered a croissant with jam and took a huge bite. After he swallowed, he added, “I thought you being here would help me relax, but I didn’t expect you to help me relax that much.”
An effervescent giggle tickled her throat. The low hum of a warning sounded in the back of her mind but she ignored it. She didn’t want to consider what could’ve changed—what definitely had changed—since last night. “I think it’s safe to say that neither of us expected that.”
“Or expected it to be that great.” His eyebrows jumped as he took another bite.
“It was great.” Her eyebrows closed in as she turned over that unexpected thought. “This is oddly comfortable. I guess it shouldn’t be odd. It’s not like we don’t know each other. It’s just that now we know each other...biblically.”
That earned her a rough chuckle, a sound she loved to hear from her best friend no matter the situation. Only now that chuckle sent chills up and down her arms much like the paintbrush this morning. Sex had added a layer to their friendship that she wasn’t done exploring.
“I talked to your landlord.”
“And?”
“He bitched a lot about how he regretted buying the building, which he affectionately called a ‘dump,’ and then he mentioned that they’ve been looking into leaks in the apartments above you and below, but yours is the one they can’t isolate.”
“Lovely. I was so adamant about having that apartment in particular.” She shook her head with a token amount of regret. At the time she hadn’t been thinking about the lack of light coming in through the windows or the noise coming from overhead and on both sides of her since she was in the center of the C-shaped brick building. “I was too busy admiring the rough wood flooring and the open layout and the proximity to the elevator to think of much else.”
“Doesn’t look like you’ll be going back to your own apartment anytime soon. I have plenty of space here.” He watched her carefully, as if waiting for her to argue.
That alarm buzzed a little louder, warning her that things were changing—had changed, she mentally corrected. But how could she say no? She wanted to make Flynn happy, and herself, and sex with him had ticked both boxes with one overlapping checkmark. Her apartment had sprung a leak—so there was no sense in living like she was in a third-world country when she had Flynn’s penthouse on loan. Plus, who was to say that they couldn’t go back to normal after a sabbatical filled with great sex and plenty of Flynn’s deep chuckles?
There. Now that she’d justified that, she felt like she could respond.
“You do have plenty of space.” She shrugged. “I can’t think of any reason to leave.”
“Good. You should stay. We’ll see if we can one-up last night.” He waggled his eyebrows and a laugh burst from her lips. Who knew the secret to pulling Flynn from his shell was sex? Who knew they’d be so damn good at it?
His phone vibrated on the table next to him. He broke eye contact for a cursory glance at the screen.
