38. Tatum
38
TATUM
A fter my little rendezvous with Pax on the beach, we put the dwindling fire out, and he led me to his bathroom where he proceeded to wash my hair. Wash. My freaking. Hair. I asked if I should be worried that he had any intention of dying it as payback for what I did to him, but he assured me his motives were innocent…until he fell to his knees and worshipped me with his mouth. But I digress. Once my hair was sand free and we’d both gotten off—one for him and two for me because, and I quote, he’s, “generous like that,”—we spent the night in Paxton’s bed.
Yup. I slept over. Voluntarily this time, and not because I was drunk off my ass, thank you very much. It doesn’t mean I’m in love with him or anything. It doesn’t even mean we’re official or whatever. It means we had a sleepover. Simple as that. Or at least, it’s what I keep telling myself to keep from losing my shit. We slept together. And we didn’t just have sex twice, which is most definitely one of my biggest rules, but we actually slept . Midnight snuggles included. I blame it on the post orgasmic haze, but if I’m being honest, I think there’s more to it.
And that realization? It’s a hard pill to swallow. But I’m trying.
Stretching in Paxton’s bed, I realize the sheets on his side are cold to the touch. Where did he go? And how long has he been gone? I turn my head toward the open door and breathe in deep. Coffee. The smell brings a smile to my lips as I roll onto my side, reaching for my phone on the nightstand.
A text from Rory shines back at me.
Rory
Hey! Just wanted to let you know I made it home safe. Have fun! Text me when you wake up.
She must’ve sent it last night, but I was too distracted to notice. With a yawn, I type my response.
Me
Hey, just woke up. Glad you made it home safe.
The three little dots appear almost instantly before her reply delivers to my phone.
Rory
No worries. Figured you were a little preoccupied last night. Did you have fun?
Me
If you count three orgasms and a few sore muscles, then yes.
Rory
Three?! Damn. I’ll be sure to give Pax a high-five the next time I see him.
Me
I’m sure he’d love that. Are you still at home?
Rory
Nope. I’m at the library with Hades finishing my English paper.
Me
I still have no idea how that terror passed service dog school.
Rory
Whatever. He’s nothing but a big ol’ sweetheart.
Me
Who hates anyone and everyone around him.
Rory
Anyone and everyone but me, which is all that matters. ;) Are you spending the day with Pax?
Me
Not sure yet, but I’ll figure something out. Good luck on your paper. I’ll see you at home.
Rory
Mmmkay. See you!
The stairs creak as I read her message. Looking up, I find Pax balancing the same tray as the last time I was here. And it’s strange. Replaying both events. Their similarities. Their differences. I definitely don’t miss the headache this time around, though.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Pax greets me.
“Morning.”
He sets the tray on the nightstand, then grabs one of the coffee cups, offering it to me. The sheets pool at my waist as I sit up and take the dark blue mug from him, breathing in the mouth-watering, nutty aroma before taking a small sip. “Mmm.”
With a soft smile, he adds, “Glad you like it.” Holding the second cup to his chest, he sits beside my hip on the edge of the mattress. “How’d you sleep?” he asks.
“Good. You?”
He smiles. “Really good.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” I glance at the tray. “And breakfast.”
“Anytime.”
Sucking my top lip between my teeth, I go in for another sip of coffee, unsure what to say or do. I’ve never been in this position. I’ve always been up and out of there before the other person has had a chance to wake up, and that’s if I passed out in the bed after sex in the first place. This? Coffee and talking and post orgasmic glow-esque vibes? It’s…I don’t even know. Do I ask what he’s doing today? If he can give me a ride home? Do I assume he wants me to stay and hang out? I don’t know!
“Hey.” He taps my outer thigh with the back of his hand. “You good?”
“Yup.”
He smirks. “You sure? ‘Cause you look like you’re two seconds away from having a panic attack.”
Forcing my muscles to relax, I drag my thumbs across the side of the faded logo on the coffee mug. “I’m good. Only…trying to figure out what happens next now that I’ve slept over and…everything.”
“Me, too,” he admits.
My eyes widen. “You’re saying you’re not a seasoned pro at this?”
His low chuckle makes my stomach flip as he shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m good at faking like I know what I’m doing. But this is my first time, too. Liking someone.” He drops his voice low and leans closer like it’s our little secret. The fact that he likes me. That this is his first time wading through the waters of a fresh relationship. And even though I’m flattered, I’m surprised, too.
My brows tug down in the center as I peek up at him over the rim of my cup. “You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend or anything?”
“Are you insinuating you’re my girlfriend?” he volleys.
Panic swells inside of me, and I rush out, “No, no, no, that’s not?—”
“Kidding,” he laughs. “And, no. No girlfriends. A few casual, consistent hookups, but it was all physical.”
Physical.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from asking what this is then. If it’s different. If it’s more than physical for him, too, even though I have a feeling I already know the answer.
“Do you…” I steal a piece of toast with jam from the nightstand and take a bite, chewing slowly as he watches me.
“Do I…?”
Swallowing, I force out, “Do you have any plans today?”
He nods. “Sparring session with one of Judge’s nephews.”
“Oh.” I take another bite, trying to imagine it. Pax going toe-to-toe with another human being under the guise of a good workout and a solid way to let off steam. Weird. But I guess I can’t I give him crap about his coping mechanisms when mine have always been less than stellar. “That sounds… fun ?” I question.
With a laugh, he returns, “It is fun, actually. Do you wanna come?”
I stay quiet, unsure what to say.
Sensing my hesitancy, he explains, “Last time I mentioned it, you said the idea of me fighting is kind of hot. I’m happy to give you a front-row seat if you’re interested.”
I take another sip of coffee, considering the invitation. Part of me wants to say yes, but I also don’t want to look needy or clingy or…I don’t even know.
With a frown, he starts, “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I rush out. “I just have a few houses scheduled to clean today, and…”
Understanding sparks in Paxton’s eyes. “No pressure, Birthday Girl.”
That’s the problem, though. Isn’t it? Because he’s right. There is no pressure. Not from him. He’s been nothing but patient and kind and thoughtful, but I’m so caught up in my own head that I can barely hold a conversation right now, let alone an entire day with the man. What if I screw it up? Are we taking things too fast or too slow or…dammit, I don’t know?
“Seriously, Tate,” he murmurs, as if he can see the wheels in my head turning. “We’re good.”
“Rain check?” I ask.
“Yeah, anytime.”
The soft smile at the edge of his mouth eases my nerves and somehow quiets the carousel of thoughts plaguing me, proving exactly how awesome Paxton Turner really is.
Shifting closer, I brush my lips against his cheek. “And I do mean it. I want a rain check.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum. “A hot and sweaty Pax beating the shit out of one of Judge’s nephews sounds like a pretty awesome way to spend my day. I just…I guess I feel like some time to breathe and let my brain catch up on everything that’s happening is probably…,” I lick my lips, “a smart thing to do. You know?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. This is a lot.”
“Yeah, but it’s a good lot,” I tell him.
“It is a good lot,” he agrees, leaning in and kissing me. My toes curl in his sheets as I tilt my head, savoring the feel of his lips on mine. When he pulls away, he adds, ”So you’re not running?”
I shake my head, ignoring the tension in my fingers as I cling to the coffee mug. “Not planning on it.”
“All right, Birthday Girl. I’m gonna believe you, but don’t think I won’t pull out the running shoes if I need to. You hear me?”
With a smile, I nod. “I hear you.”