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I don’t remember my mattress being this comfortable, but exhaustion will do that to a girl.
Steve’s warm, steady weight is settled at my hip, his soft snoring filling the air.
My little guy, always at my side.
“Mmm,” I murmur, stretching my arms over my head.
Or try to.
Because they’re stuck, and for a second, I think they’re tangled in the blankets. But then I come more fully awake, realize there’s also a warm weight at my back—
No. Ahotone.
And it’s not the blankets.
It’s much heavier than a blanket.
It’s—
“Sweet fucking Christ,” I whisper, my eyes flying open, head jerking on the pillow that’s full of an intoxicating male scent, all spicy and warm, with notes of cedar and sage. I suck in a breath and turn toward…
Him.
Lake is lying on his side, his hand that had been resting on my hip now a solid weight on my belly.
If it slid down a couple of inches—
I shiver, remembering him on the counter, remembering the confident way he stroked me to completion, those thick, blunt fingers spearing into me.
Steve snorts and I realize my little pup is sprawled on his back between us, his puppy paws in the air, jowls hanging open, breathing loudly as always.
Me. My dog. Lake.
In bed together.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
Becausethis—the butterflies in my stomach when I see his face relaxed in sleep, see him passed out next to Steve—screams important.
This screams: Lake.Does. Matter.
And he doesn’t.Thisdoesn’t. We’re not in a romance novel. We’re not snowed in together and suddenly going to fall head over heels in love with each other and tramp off through the white fluffy stuff to our happy ending. This is a series of shitty circumstances and a mischievous friend and her brother overstepping that have all coalesced into a weird couple of days.
With one bed.
And one orgasm—for me.
And one hot hockey player sleeping next to me.
I exhale long and slow and quietly, mostly because if I don’t do that, then I might scream. And if I scream, I might wake Lake. And if I wake Lake, then I’ll have to deal with this knot in my stomach, this sense that everything’s changing, this reality that I’m unfamiliar with.
I don’t want to.
And…I have things to do.
So says the woman who just got fired and has found herself single and—
Fine.
