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And finally him, puncturing it.
“Did we really just dry hump each other?” he asked in so incredulous and appalled a tone it honestly made her face heat. She almost wanted to answerNo, it was all a dream. But managed to pull herself back from that absurd brink.
“Yeah, I think that’s what we might have done,” she said instead.
While trying not to let it show that she was cringing.
After all, what would she be cringing for?
He had done it, too. It wasn’t just her fault.
He’d grabbed her butt and made her ride his cock.
Though somehow, the fact that he had didn’t seem to make things any less weird—as he apparently well knew. “Even though that’s a completely bonkers thing for two grown adults to do,” he said, and okay, he was right. He was right.
But they had reasons, didn’t they? Good reasons that he should take into account. “To be fair to us, it is really difficult to be rational and great at making normal decisions when you’ve accidentally jammed your leg between someone else’s, while half nude and in bed. Not to mention the fact that we made the incredibly questionable decision to tell each other we were not allowed to do something again, then we described exactly how we would avoid doing it in a situation where doing it becomes a ludicrously easy thing to accidentally do.”
“So basically we made it forbidden, then jinxed ourselves.”
“That sounds about right, yeah. As batshit as it sounds.”
He sighed then. And so heavily she felt it more than she heard it.
His chest rose and fell against the cheek she inexplicably still had wedged there. Although maybe it wasn’t that inexplicable when she really thought about it. After all, if she moved she’d have to look at him. And he’d have to look at her. And this conversation was excruciating enough as it was, without throwing eye contact into the mix.
No, she thought.
Better to stay jammed together for this.
“So what do we do now?” he asked, somewhere over her head.
And she answered into his left pectoral muscle with as much rue as she could muster. “Probably never try to sleep in the same bed again, for starters.”
“Yeah, that was absolutely mad of us. Honestly I don’t know how we ever even came up with such a ridiculous idea. Or what made us actually agree to do it, and then just go the fuck ahead like nothing could ever possibly go wrong.”
“I think it had something to do with your back. And only having one bed.”
Or at least that’s what we told ourselves, her mind chimed in.
And knew he was thinking the same, just by the derisive sound he let out.
“Christ, that wouldn’t pass muster in a movie starring Channing Tatum.”
“Yeah, even Channing would be too smart to fall for that old trick.”
“He would. So now we’re thicker than the thickest rom-com hero there is.”
“Neither of us are Sandra Bullock. Both of us are the himbo. And apparently said himbos have absolutely no control over their own bodies.”
“But I do have control over mine. I’ve never been ruled on the sly by my dick,” he protested. Then seemed to realize how that sounded in light of what had just happened and corrected himself. “Or at least I’m not usually. In normal circumstances. When I don’t have a half-naked you glued to my body, writhing and moaning and being all wet and oh fucking hell I’m starting to feel it again we have to get up, let’s get up and get showered and dressed and have breakfast and be normal, come on. Come on, we can do this.”
He clapped his hands together on that last word. Probably like he once had in locker rooms while trying to convince his teammates at halftime that they absolutely could come back from seventeen-nil.We just have to put our backs into it, lads, sheimagined him saying. And the thing was—it did actually feel sort of possible, once he had. He was good at rallying the troops, it seemed.
Or at least, good enough that they managed everything he’d suggested.
She showered and put on clothes that he gave her. Good clothes, which covered everything she had. And he did the same. Then they ate slices of toast while standing across the kitchen from each other in almost matching ensembles. Massive jumpers, thick trousers, woolly socks—like two people about to go skiing in weather they were convinced was going to be incredibly horny.
And after that, there was just one more hurdle.
