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Sparkly.
“Gavin! Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. I’m so sorry.” A flurry of movement rushed past his ears, and somewhere amid the crushing pain reverberating between his temples, he felt himself being eased backward onto a soft surface and covered with a warm, wonderful blanket.
Wait a second…the blanket had tits. Nice ones.
Make thatreallywonderful.
“Gavin? Can you hear me?” The woman’s voice rose and fell with inflections he vaguely recognized, and understanding snapped back at him like a rubber band on raw skin.
Clearly, Sloane was just fine, because she was practically straddling his chest.
“Yeah, of course I can hear you. You’re right in my—ow!” Okay, so sitting up was a bad plan. He eased ungracefully back to the floor, highly aware of the heat of Sloane’s body notched against his.
“Okay, shh. Just relax for a second.” Her fingers coursed gently over the back of his neck, and he caught a nose full of the spicy, seductive scent of her skin.
Huh. Relaxing somehow got a little easier.
“What were…what were you doing on the floor?” His fragmented thoughts began spooling back together, and finally, blessedly, the marching band in his cranium started to tone things down.
Sloane’s body tensed, a slight shift in the body weight still perched over him the only sign of her hesitation. “Um, meditating.”
He cracked one eye open to catch her gesturing to a bright yellow yoga mat beneath the tangle of their bodies. “Meditating?”
“Yeah. I thought it might give me some good ideas for my book, mental clarity, all that crap. I had my AirPods in and didn’t hear you come home. And then, well, you scared me half to death, and I guess I…I must’ve head-butted you.” She bit her lip in apology, but then her attention seemed to snag on an unspoken thought. “Wait, what’d you think I was doing?”
Well, that explained the raging face pain. How had he not noticed the damned yoga mat? “I…well, never mind.”
Of course, she didn’t relent. “Seriously, why else would I crash on your floor?”
“Please,” he said, letting his exasperation lead the way. “You’re hardly predictable, Sloane.”
She tensed, her muscles coiling tight against his body, and he instantly wished for the words back. Yes, he was irritated with her for scaring the shit out of him like that, but it was no excuse for taking a verbal jab at her.
“I’m sorry. It’s just dangerous for you not to hear things like that. What if I’d been an intruder?” A bit of a lame recovery, but all told, not completely unfounded. What if something happened to her and Bree when they were alone at night?
“Then I’d have cold-cocked you just the same, making the cops’ job easy?” Sloane released the words on a shrug, without the tiniest hint of remorse or worry that he could’ve been some thug with nasty intentions. Her face settled into a rare frown. “You don’t have to worry about a repeat performance, anyway. It’s not like it worked.”
A pang shot through Gavin’s gut. Maybe hewasbeing a little tough on her. After all, he had slipped into the house pretty quietly. “I really am sorry,” he mumbled, wincing at the residual twinge in his upper lip.
“No, you’re right. I should be more careful. Are you sure you’re okay?”
The streak of vulnerability on her face caught him by so much surprise that he spoke without thinking. “Sloane, you’re straddling my lap. Honestly, I’ve forgotten about my face.”
“Oh!” The start-and-wiggle combination caused by her realization that she was indeed suggestively pressed against him destroyed any remaining irritation that she’d scared him. In fact, watching her flail to her bottom on the floorboards would’ve probably been downright amusing if he wasn’t so busy mourning the loss of her body covering his.
Gavin levered himself to a sitting position, face hot with guilt. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but surely he must have. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but she cut him off at the pass with a burst of throaty laughter.
“Sorry! I’m sorry, it’s not funny.” Sloane giggled even harder. “I didn’t…mean to…you know, straddle you, but…God, I’m an idiot. I’ll just go. Really…I can…”
The rest of her sentence was cut off by her unmitigated laughter, a sound so musical and full of unexpected happiness that Gavin had no choice but to start laughing with her.
“You’re not an idiot. And for the record, I’m the one who acted like a jerk. Call it even?”
She nodded, and their laughter twined together for a full minute before subsiding. “So, you’re really okay?” she asked again. She reached up to brush her fingers over his cheekbone in a gentle sweep, and even though the touch was innocent, he felt it in the darkest, most wicked places of his body.
God, he wanted to kiss her again, only this time, he wouldn’t be an idiot and stop. She tilted her face toward his in the smallest gesture, her teeth pressing against her bottom lip to interrupt the lush shape of her mouth. The soft pads of her fingers coasted to a stop over his temple, lingering as her eyes met his.
Gavin shifted his weight with the intention of touching her back, of pulling her in and not letting go. But just as he moved, Sloane dropped both her hand and her chin, slipping away from him as if she’d realized the mistake of her proximity and meant to make good on her promise to leave. Already in motion, he had no choice but to dosomething,so he skimmed a clumsy palm over his own face in the wake of her now-absent hand.
