Chapter Eighteen Sunday
Chapter Eighteen
Sunday
Joshua:
There haven’t been many times in my life since James killed himself where I’ve woken up and felt alright. Most mornings are rough. They start rough and stay that way.
The feeling usually arrives as soon as my thoughts knit themselves together and I remember where I am, who I am, and who isn’t here anymore.
This morning is different.
There’s a girl with her back pressed against my chest, and the faint smell of her flowery shampoo is the first thing I notice, strands of her hair brushing my chin. I blink my eyes open to sunlight pushing through unfamiliar blue curtains before my gaze drops.
I’m spooning Ruby.
What the actual fuck am I doing?
I should not be cuddling a girl I barely know. This isn’t normal for me. Cuddling is girlfriend territory, and Ruby is not my girlfriend. She isn’t going to be my girlfriend. Whatever this thing between us is, it is not that.
I’m not even someone who likes being touched. Most of the time, contact makes me feel trapped in my own skin. I tolerate handshakes, hugs if I have to, people clapping me on the back if needed, but this is different.
I like this.
I like having her tucked against me, the weight of her body fitted into mine, the rise and fall of her breathing beneath my arm. I like the way her hair smells. I like the bare strip of skin where her T-shirt has ridden up above the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.
Which is unlucky as fuck, because now all I want to do is touch more of her.
My hand is resting against her stomach, and I have an insane urge to move it lower, then higher, then everywhere in between. I want to know what she feels like beneath my hands when neither of us is half asleep. I want to know what noises she makes when she isn’t laughing at me.
I want—shit. My dick is hard.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Have you stuck something in your trousers,” Ruby suddenly mumbles, her voice thick with sleep, “or are you just happy to see me?”
Every muscle in my body locks. My face burns. “It’s morning wood.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm.” She shifts against me and her peachy bum drags over the front of my boxers, forcing a sharp breath through my nose. “I think I would’ve preferred you being undeniably attracted to me.”
That too.
There isn’t a universe where I wouldn’t find her attractive.
Nothing about Ruby fades into the background.
I like her brown hair and huge hazel eyes.
I like the colour of her skin and the curve of her waist beneath my arm.
I like how fast her brain moves and how little interest she has in pretending to be quieter, easier or less strange than she is.
I can’t think of a single thing I don’t like.
I spent years learning how to flatten every reaction before anybody could use it against me, and Ruby seems capable of pulling one out of me without even trying.
A stupid bird can chase us across campus and suddenly I’m hissing at it while she’s bent double laughing.
She can call me Grumpy, sugar pokie or whatever other ridiculous thing enters her head, and instead of wanting her to shut up, I wait to hear what she comes out with next.
My attention drops to where my arm is hooked around her middle beneath the duvet, and I try to piece together how the hell I ended up here in the first place.
I’d gone back to The Shed for her phone after carrying her home. Brooke had it in her bag, along with Ruby’s coat at their table, and by the time I got back to halls she’d changed into pyjamas, made us both tea and put The Fault in Our Stars on her laptop.
At some point, I got onto the bed with her. At another point, she’d fallen asleep against my shoulder. And judging by where I am now, I must have followed her not long after.
I don’t remember deciding to stay. I definitely don’t remember getting under the duvet, though I do remember undressing. I have absolutely no memory of wrapping myself around her like a fucking koala, but there are worse places I could’ve ended up.
Ruby moves her head across the pillow as she turns to face me. I loosen my arm so she can roll over, then it settles across her waist again once she’s on her side, our knees knocking beneath the duvet and one of her shins sliding lightly along mine.
“Is there a reason you decided to cuddle me in the middle of the night?”
“Is there a reason you let me?”
She shrugs. “I was asleep.”
“So was I.”
“Hm,” Ruby tuts. “You don’t seem like someone who moves in their sleep.”
“I’m not usually.” I barely ever woke spooning Bonnie, and we’d spent plenty of nights in the same bed. Most of the time I’d wake exactly where I’d fallen asleep, usually on my side with half a mattress between us.
“You’re telling me I migrated across the bed and attached myself to you?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I was unconscious. I can’t confirm or deny.”
Ruby’s leg slides between mine as she shifts closer, the inside of her knee dragging slowly up my thigh until it settles dangerously close to my dick.
Every part of me stiffens and my hand clamps harder around her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there while I drag a breath through my teeth and try not to fucking think like a bog-standard man.
She blinks up at me with the most innocent expression I’ve ever seen. “Still morning wood?”
I laugh. “Get fucked.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Ruby.” My pulse is racing.
“Okay, okay.” Her voice is throaty. She tilts her head, hazel eyes full of mischief. “What normally gets him to calm down?”
“Ruby—"
She starts thoughtfully tapping her chin. “Is it thinking of your grandmother?”
“You—” I strangle out.
“—A cold shower?”
“—honestly—”
“—Have you tried clenching your ass cheeks?”
“—are batshit insane!”
Ruby bursts out laughing. “I’m trying to help!”
“You are not helping!” I snap, turning the bottom half of my body away from her.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes widen as she glances down towards my straining dick. “Are you actually embarrassed?”
“No!”
“You are.” She laughs. “Isn’t it just what happens to men in the morning?”
“Yeah,” I supply dryly. “But I’m not usually pressed up against my friends this early in the day.”
She gives me this oddly wounded, annoyed look that makes my stomach twist. “Is that what I am?”
The fuck does that mean?
“What? My friend? Yeah. Of course.”
I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but she’s become pretty fucking important to me in that time, whether I understand how that happened or not.
Ruby pulls away from me and the space she leaves behind feels fucking awful. I ignore it, pushing myself upright against the headboard and stretching out my back while I try to work out what I’ve said wrong.
“I mean,” Ruby huffs as she practically launches herself off the bed, “do you act like this with anyone else?” She snatches my Tommy Hilfiger jumper from the floor and drags it over her head before turning back to me. “Is this how you usually are?”
My sleeves swallow her hands and this mad, possessive feeling hits me out of nowhere. Seeing her in my clothes makes my throat constrict and wipes every thought clean out of my head. I look between the slogan sat on her chest and her eyes. “Do I let other friends wear my clothes?”
Ruby’s hazel eyes narrow. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”
I do. I think. I just don’t particularly want to answer it.
She gestures towards the bed between us. “Do you do this with anyone else?”
No, of course I fucking don’t. “I don’t really know what you want me to say here.”
“Are you being thick on purpose?”
I lean back against the headboard and try to calm the panic sirens firing off inside of me. “No.”
Ruby is staring at me with this furious determination that makes me think I’ve massively underestimated how much this is bothering her. She takes a couple of steps back towards the bed, glaring at me, then climbs onto it and starts crawling towards me.
My breath hitches sharply and my back presses harder into the headboard as she comes closer.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Without breaking eye contact, she forces my legs apart as she moves between them until she’s right up against me.
“Ruby,” I murmur warily.
She reaches for me, both hands sliding around the back of my neck, and my breathing goes to complete and utter shit. Her face is inches from mine, her knees pressed against the inside of my thighs, my jumper hanging off her body while I sit there trying not to lose my fucking mind.
Ruby’s eyes flicker over my face. “See.”
I swallow thickly. “See what?”
“You’re reacting to me.”
“You’ve just crawled between my legs,” I point out. “What the fuck else am I supposed to do?”
“You’re supposed to tell the truth.”
“Am I supposed to know what this truth is?”
“Yes. I want you to tell me what you feel when I do this,” she leans forward and kisses my cheek tenderly. Shit. “And this.” She kisses the corner of my mouth. Shit. Shit. Shit. “Maybe even this.” She gingerly kisses my lips, before whispering in my ear. “Do you feel nothing?”
Holy fucking shit.
I don’t know what the fuck is happening. Only that my body is taking all leave of my senses and the urge to drag her to me and kiss her stupid is overwhelming.
I grip the jumper at either side. “You seriously want me to answer that?”
“Yes.” Her voice brushes my ear, and my fingers dig into her harder.
“I feel something,” I admit, every nerve ending feeling electrocuted.
Ruby pulls back a fraction, and the satisfaction in her eyes should annoy me, but all I can think about is how nice it would be to kiss her. “Tell me what you feel, Josh.”
I drag my eyes over her face, trying to find an answer that doesn’t sound completely fucking unhinged, because the truth is I feel too much.
I feel every place she’s touching me. I feel her knees against my thighs and her fingers at the back of my neck and the pressure of her body between my legs, and I’m so aware of her that it’s almost painful.
“I feel like you’re making it very difficult to think. ”
Ruby’s gaze drops to my mouth. “That’s not an answer.”