Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Liv
I wake to a warm, cozy feeling surrounding me, as though I’ve been wrapped in the world’s warmest blanket.
The blanket hums behind me, and I suddenly remember everything.
Every little touch. Gasp. Moan. Strike of pleasure that he wrung out of my body. All without ever hinting that he needed relief, too.
Jay is truly the most gentlemanly man I’ve ever had in my bed. If he’s not careful, a girl could get used to this.
I try rolling carefully, slow enough not to wake him right away, but the second my movement shifts the mattress, his arm tightens instinctively around my waist, pulling me back to him.
The reflex is protective, possessive in a way that makes my stomach dip.
His face is buried in my hair, his breath warm against the back of my neck.
“Morning,” he mumbles, and I had no idea a guy’s raspy morning voice could create such a visceral reaction in me, but here I am trying my hardest not to turn over and hump him like some kind of feral animal.
“Morning,” I whisper back, proud that my voice doesn’t crack.
The heat of his body pressed against mine is doing absolutely nothing to help my self-control. I can feel him, hard and solid against my hip, and my brain short-circuits.
“You sleep okay?” he asks, lips brushing the back of my shoulder.
“Mhhmm,” I manage.
I don’t see his head lift, but I know it has when the sheets rustle. “Are you lying to me, Liv? Did I snore?”
“No, you were the perfect sleeping buddy…”
The pause speaks louder than my truth. He was an A-star sleeping buddy, but if he presses up against me with that weapon again, I can’t be responsible for my actions.
“But?”
I mean, he asked, so… I roll my ass back into his hardness, and the grunt-slash-groan I earn from that movement alone is worth every ounce of embarrassment. But then his hand flexes on my stomach, and I swear he pulls me closer for a second.
“Olivia,” he rasps into my hair, a plea and a warning tangled together.
“You know I love it when you call me by my full name… that and what you called me last night.”
“Gatinha?”
I moan a noise and roll my hips once more, getting another hiss from him. “Yes, that.”
“You’re playing with fire,” he says, and his hips shift just enough that I feel all of him, thick and hot through the thin barrier of fabric.
Good. Burn me.
I bite down on a smile, forcing myself to keep my voice light even though my pulse is sprinting. “Maybe I like the heat.”
The low curse he breathes against the back of my neck has my entire body lighting up. His restraint is obvious, every muscle in his body tight with the effort to not give in, and suddenly I want to see just how far I can push him before that control snaps.
Silence stretches, hot and thick, until I think maybe I’ve gone too far. Then his teeth graze the edge of my shoulder, and he exhales something between a laugh and a growl.
“Quero tanto você,” I want you so much, he murmurs, the word drawn out, sinful in his accent. “One more move like that and I won’t be able to stop.”
“Just one more?” I tease.
His breath catches, then his forehead presses against the back of my neck like he’s praying for strength.
“Você vai ser o meu fim,” he hisses, low and wrecked. You’ll be the end of me.
The sound of it thrums through me, dangerous and intoxicating, and I can’t help but roll my hips again, slower this time, deliberate. His groan is guttural, torn straight from his chest, and my body answers like it’s been waiting for this exact note all along.
And then, just as I pluck up the courage to turn, the buzzer goes for our door.
The sound is jarring, shrill against the haze we’ve spun ourselves into. Jay swears under his breath, the rumble vibrating through my spine.
“Are you kidding me?” I mutter, every nerve in my body screaming at the interruption.
The buzzer goes again, longer this time, impatient.
Jay exhales, ragged. “I’ll get it.”
And just like that, our potential sex bubble pops. I flop onto my back, staring at the ceiling like maybe if I play dead, whoever’s at the door will go away.
No such luck.
The moment Jay swings the door open, Hudson’s voice barrels down the hall. “Rise and shine! We brought croissants.”
“Shit,” I hiss, scrambling out of bed and yanking yesterday’s sweatshirt over my head.
I drag a hand through my hair, hoping it hides the fact that I definitely look like a girl who was just writhing around in someone else’s sheets, and dash into the hallway.
“Heyyy, guys.” Way to play it cool, Liv.
Hudson’s already pushing past Jay with a paper bag in hand. Daphne follows, and for a second, I think I’m safe—until her gaze sweeps over me.
She stops mid-step, eyes narrowing.
“Morning…” she says slowly, like she’s testing me. Her gaze flicks to my hair, then my sweatshirt hanging crooked off one shoulder, then to Jay, still very much shirtless. Her brows rise higher with each pass, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to grin.
I freeze, tugging my sleeve up. “What?”
“Nothing,” Daphne says, too innocently. She takes another look at Jay, then back at me. “Except… wow. You both look”—she gestures vaguely at the two of us—“disheveled.”
“Disheveled?” I echo, heat crawling up my neck. “Hey, where’s my Rosie girl? Don’t you have a kid?” I hope that changes the subject, but my bestie is immune.
“She’s with Finn and Foxx at the park.” She plants her hands on her hips, drawing it out like she’s savoring every second. “You don’t look like two people who just rolled out of separate beds.”
“What are you smoking, Mama?” I squeak but can’t meet her eyes. If she looks into them, she’ll know I’m lying.
Daphne gasps because I accidentally glance up at her. “Oh my god, you did. You slept together!”
Jay groans from the doorway, dragging a hand down his face. “We did not.”
Hudson, bless his unhelpful soul, glances between us, chewing on a croissant. “You definitely did.”
“We didn’t!” I blurt, my voice pitching higher than normal, which is basically as good as a confession.
Daphne claps her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “This is the best day of my life.” She points at Jay. “Look at you—rumpled hair, shirtless, and flushed. And you”—her finger swivels to me—“avoiding eye contact, and you look fucked.”
Hudson leans on the counter, grinning. “Yeah, you guys are terrible liars.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Can we not do this before coffee?”
“Hudson, our best friends are going to get married!” Daphne shouts.
There’s a chorus of ‘what the fuck’ and ‘married?!’ between Jay and me, and I know I need to calm her down before she has me picking out flower arrangements.
“Oh my god, you’re going to be Olivia Oliviera!”
My nose scrunches. Well, that’s just tragic. I’ll be keeping my name. Wait, I’m not even marrying the man, what the hell am I saying?
Taking my best friend’s hand, I tuck it to my chest, gently soothing her when I say.
.. “Daphne, honey, we’re not getting married; we didn’t sleep together.
I’m sorry to burst whatever high you’re riding, but I have not even seen Jay’s dick.
” Which is a travesty because I would have if they hadn’t come in.
Hudson chokes on his croissant. Jay nearly does, too, except he isn’t eating—he just makes this strangled sound that could be a cough or could be him dying of mortification.
“Liv!” he scolds, his voice breaking on my name.
“What?” I throw up my hands, letting Daphne go. “It’s the truth.”
Daphne, meanwhile, is practically vibrating. “Oh my god, you want to, though.”
“I did not say that,” I snap, which is basically the same as saying it. “You have got to stop with this best friend telepathy thing and let a girl live.”
Hudson smirks, licking flakes of pastry off his thumb. “Congratulations, man. Didn’t even have to try, and your dick’s already a topic at breakfast.”
Jay groans, dragging both hands down his face. “Can we please talk about literally anything else?”
“Yes,” I say brightly. “Friendsgiving! Let’s talk about that.”
“The event where we will all eat pie, carve turkeys, and celebrate the fact that Liv and Jay are obviously in love.”
“We are not—” Jay and I say at the exact same time, which only makes Hudson cackle and Daphne beam.
I grab the bag of croissants and bite into one like it’s my only defense. Because if I say another word, it’ll be the wrong one. And Daphne will never let me live it down.