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For once, yes; if Jackson can't keep me warm, his hoodie is the next best thing. Lifting the duvet just enough for Ben to slip in, I pat the space next to me. “Get in.”
He doesn't hesitate, dive-bombing onto the bed, shivering as he snuggles under the covers. “Fucking hell, it's cold.”
Grumbling in agreement, I hook my legs around Ben's and yank him closer so I can steal some of his warmth. “Skipping practice?”
“Nah, we finished half an hour ago,” he murmurs into my chest as he uses my boobs for a pillow. “Your boyfriend should be back soon. Think he went on a Starbucks run.”
Yeah, I may have threatened bodily harm if Jackson didn't return home with a piping hot beverage and a muffin in hand. In my defense, he knows better than to wake me up at the crack of dawn, even if it was for a kiss goodbye.
Hooking my arms around Ben, I give his back a soft pat. “How's life, Benny?”
“Good,” he murmurs against my chest. “Busy.”
I huff. You can say that again. I barely see the kid during the week. He's always running between class and practice and God knows where else. I suspect there's a secret man in the picture, but for such an open person, Ben tends to keep his love life pretty much on the down-low. I can never quite manage to pry any juicy gossip out of him. That doesn't stop me from trying though. “Too busy for a boyfriend?”
“Someone has to keep up the single legacy around here.”
“Come on.” I pout. “Not even a hook-up?”
“I hook up. I just don't broadcast it like you freaks. Some of us are classier than that.”
That makes me snort. “If you're not too booked and busy today, me and the girls are going to brunch.”
“I have plans.” How surprising. “But I'll keep you company before your UberEats delivery arrives.”
We get halfway through an episode of Gossip Girl before Jackson finally appears. The sight of us curled up in his bed, his laptop propped up between us, makes him pause for only a moment before he shakes his head with a laugh.
Crossing the room, he drops a kiss on my forehead and sets what looks like a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin on the nightstand before flicking Ben's forehead. “Stop groping my girlfriend.”
Ben pats my chest. “But she's so comfy.”
Jackson rolls his eyes as he starts undressing, dropping his bag on the floor and stripping off his sweaty t-shirt. “Unless you wanna see my balls, Benny boy,” he says as he starts to tug down his sweats, “get out.”
Ben's face twists. “Ew. Gross.” Kissing my cheek, he flees the room as fast as his long legs will carry him.
The moment the door closes behind him, Jackson's naked and coming at me for a real kiss. “I'm not sure how I feel about coming home to you in bed with another man,” he teases, nipping at my bottom lip playfully. Laughing, I hook a hand around his neck but he slips my grasp. “I gotta shower. Wanna join?”
Casting a glance at my phone, a groan escapes me. “Can't. I have to meet the girls soon. If I'm late, they'll kill me.”
His lips puff up in a cute pouty face but he doesn't push. Pecking me again, he heads for the bathroom, giving me a spectacular view of his ass. That thing really is a work of art, adorned with blank ink high on one cheek. I've noticed it before but I've always forgotten to ask about it. Or, more specifically, I've been too distracted by the rest of his nakedness to care enough to ask. “Hey, what does that mean?”
Jackson freezes. A moment passes before he glances over his shoulder, feigning ignorance. “What does what mean?”
I give him a weird look. “The ass tattoo.”
“Uh, nothing.”
Hm. Suspicious. “It's an ex-girlfriend's name, isn't it?”
“God, no.”
“Then what is it?”
There's a long, long pause in which his face contorts in quite possibly the most uncomfortably flustered expression I've ever seen before he sighs and relents. “It's Nick's name.”
I blink. My gaze flickers between his completely serious expression and his ass. “Babe, I think that's worse than an ex-girlfriend's name.”
“We were drunk!”
