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I roll my eyes.
“For your information, most of the guys in the team don’t even study something related to sports or whatever your stereotype for us is.”
“In my mind, you all study something related to business administration,” she mentions with a casual shrug.
“You’d be surprised to know the rest of their majors. I mean, yeah, Kaleb does study administration, but most of us have different majors,” I let the information drop gently.
It’s not a lie. I can count on one hand the members of the team that study something related to what she has in mind, and I’d have fingers left. We’re a little more complexed than what she wants to admit.
“So, Ryder doesn’t study administration.”
I shake my head. He’s way far from that. I think he would prefer to jump from a bridge than ending up in a career that would trap him in an office for the rest of his life.
“Nope.”
“That’s a shocker,” she says, dragging the words. “Can I guess it?”
I chuckle.
“Make that bet with him.” I offer her my clothes, and she grabs them.
Ryder pops his head from the corner of the doorframe and glances at Bree.
“Everything’s ready.”
She nods and follows him down the hall.
Making use of the time, I shove the shoes inside the closet, put the Sherlock book back on the shelf, and throw the shirts to the dirty pile. I organize the sheets a little, verifying if there are any more books. I need to know that nothing will disturb her stay over.
I can barely make peace with the fact that Bree’s going to be sleeping in my bed tonight. Turning around, I spot her at the door, looking sheepish for the first time. She’s wearing the black shirt that reaches half of her thigh. The sweatpants are on her right hand.
“These are longer than me. Why did you have to be a giant?” Bree asks, throwing them at me.
“No one told you to be a dwarf,” I spit back, catching the pants and putting them back in the drawer. I look for an extra bedsheet in my closet.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes follow me walking around the room.
“Making sure that I have everything to sleep on the couch,” I reply shortly.
She points at the bed.
“Your bed is right there.”
“You’re sleeping there,” I refute.
Bree seems to connect the dots because she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, my God, Stanley. How old are we? Twelve? We’re perfectly capable of sharing a bed for one night.”
My muscles tense up, but not because I hate the idea, but because I’m not sure if she genuinely means it. However, her glare tells me that she’s okay with it. I know that I shouldn’t because I don’t know where I stand with her, but I’m a masochist. Even when I’m conscious that she wouldn’t have spoken to me unless this awful situation happened, I still can’t reject her proposal.
Is it wrong that part of me wants this? My whole skin screams for her, and I know that this will be more difficult than sleeping on the couch, but somehow I still want it. I want her close. My feelings are all over the place.
“Lie down.”
“You’re bossy in the bedroom,” she mumbles as she climbs on the bed, crawling until she’s on the side that’s close to the wall. I turn the lights off, leaving only the one that’s on my nightstand on. I lie down next to her. “Are you planning on sleeping now?”
I shake my head.
