AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That’s it?
Is he joking right now?
Seriously. The guy’s playing with me. He has to be.
I nod anyway, watching as he walks past his bed toward the hallway.
“Wait.” I step to him like I can’t help it. And maybe I can’t. I like Mack. I like being around him. I like being in his space. And I’m not ready for him to leave. I’m not ready to be alone again. I’m not ready to be lonely. Not yet.
He turns around and waits.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I’m gonna sleep on the couch so you can have the bed.”
My shoulders hunch, and I shake my head. “I feel bad taking your room.”
“It’s not a big deal, Kate.”
“Seriously,” I argue. “It’s a big bed. You’re welcome to stay in here.”
“I can stay on the couch.”
“I know you can, but I’m not kidding when I say I literally won’t be able to sleep if I know I kicked you out of your room. So,please. Stay. We’ll each keep to our own side of the bed. It’ll be fine.”
He glances at the mattress, then back at me, his brows stitched together. “You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah. We’re both adults. And I know you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t comfortable, so…”
He stares at me for another long moment. “You swear you won’t sleep well if I take the couch?”
“Positive.”
“One hundred percent?”
“Yup. One hundred percent,” I confirm. And it’s true. I’ll never be able to sleep alone in his room, knowing I kicked him out of his own bed. And no, it most definitely does not have anything to do with the idea of sleeping next to him. Nope. Not one bit.
He’s cute when he’s concerned. Like I’ve ruffled his feathers and left him off-kilter. Honestly, it’s kind of refreshing since I’m usually the one with the ruffled feathers, and he’s usually the one who’s relaxed and at ease.
Mack squeezes the back of his neck, glancing at the bed again like it might reach out and grab us both, and mutters, “Okay.”
“Okay.” Rocking back on my heels, I add, “I’m gonna change.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat with a laugh. “I’ll, uh…” I hook my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to the bathroom and bee-lining it toward the restroom.
I take off my clothes but hesitate before slipping Mack’s cotton T-shirt over my head.
Hello, fuel to the fire.
There’s something about wearing a guy’s clothes. About the way it feels against your skin. The way it hits your upper thighs. The way it makes you feel enveloped and…safe when said clothes belong to the right person.
I lift the collar of the shirt and bring it to my nose, proving how weak I am when it comes to Macklin Taylor. It smells clean. Like laundry detergent. But there’s an underlying scent beneath it. It smells like him. Lifting the hem of the shirt, I press it to my nose and breathe a little deeper.
Yup. It smells like him. Like his entire house. Clean. Woodsy. Mouth-watering. I let the material go and slip my legs into Mack’s basketball shorts. I fold my clothes, sit them on the corner of the counter, making sure they’re out of the way, and head back into the bedroom.
Mack’s back is pressed to the dark headboard, and his phone is in his hands as I flick the bathroom light off. Darkness blankets the room except for the light coming from his phone. It bounces off Mack’s blue eyes as he watches me, his gaze sliding down my body and landing on my toes. He clears his throat and looks at his phone again.
