Chapter 12
Juliette
I wasn’t sure what to do.
Wes and I stared at each other a moment before he stood and walked over behind me. “Why don’t you go up, babe?” he said, rubbing my shoulders. “I’m going to go out front and shoot hoops for a while. I’ll probably be done before you finish your half-hour-long skincare routine.”
My night routine did take forever, but I couldn’t figure out if he actually knew that or had just made it up for his mom’s sake.
Joanna smiled and patted her son’s arm. “If you two ever live together, you’re going to need a basketball hoop out front.
Since he was a little boy, Wes has been going outside to shoot hoops whenever he has a problem.
Sometimes he would spend hours out there.
” She gave his forearm a squeeze and her voice softened.
“Sadly, I don’t think Grandma’s problem is solvable, Wes. Don’t stay out there too long.”
He nodded, but I knew Wes had more than one problem to work on tonight. We’d been next to each other the entire long day, though, and I figured he could use some time alone. So I said goodnight and followed Joanna up to the spare bedroom.
The rhythmic thump of a basketball bouncing out front sounded faintly in the background as I got ready for bed.
I washed my face, applied my serums and creams, and brushed my teeth.
But instead of finishing barefaced the way I usually did at night, I leaned close to the mirror and swiped on a fresh coat of mascara, then fixed my hair a bit.
Ridiculous, I know. I never wore makeup to bed.
Still, I told myself it was because I was going to have to see Wes’s mother again in the morning—not because I wanted to look nice for her son. Though of course, I knew better.
Wes came in fifteen minutes later, just as I finished making up a bed on the floor. His shirt was tucked in his back pocket, and his chest glistened with sweat. He lifted his chin, gesturing to the makeshift bed. “I don’t need two pillows.”
I glanced over at the setup. “Oh. The floor is for me, not for you.”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
“I’m fine on the floor,” I assured him. “Once I even fell asleep during shavasana at yoga because I’m so comfortable there. The instructor had to wake me.”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Juliette.”
“But—”
He cut me off with a look. “There’s no point in arguing, because it’s not happening. I’m going to take a quick shower. When I come out, your ass better be in that bed.”
I must have been losing it because the way he said “your ass better be in that bed” sent tingles running through me. I slid under the covers as he disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, the sound of running water filled the silence.
I told myself not to picture him behind the frosted glass, his broad shoulders slick and head tipped back beneath the spray.
I failed miserably. To make matters worse, he walked back into the room smelling clean, with a towel wrapped low on his hips.
I’d never found the scent of soap particularly sexy before, but on him it was intoxicating.
Wes grabbed his bag and returned to the bathroom to get dressed, emerging wearing no shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I really wanted to know if he had underwear on under there. But sadly, he flicked off the light before climbing into his bed on the floor.
“Goodnight,” Wes said.
“Goodnight.”
I rolled to my side and pulled the blanket up to my shoulders.
Fifteen minutes went by, and I was still wide awake.
Sleep wasn’t going to come easily with Wes so near.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard him shifting.
He was definitely not comfortable on the floor.
I tried to ignore it by rolling to my other side, but after what felt like an hour of torture, I whispered into the dark. “Wes? Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“This is silly. I hear you tossing and turning, and I’m staring at the ceiling feeling guilty about you down there on the floor. We’re both adults. There’s plenty of room in this bed. Why don’t we share it?”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Long seconds of silence ticked by. “It’s just not.”
“I also noticed that there’s no lock on our door. Your mom is very nice, but she sort of seems like the type who might pop her head in to say breakfast is ready in the morning. We’re supposed to be a couple.”
Wes stayed quiet for so long I thought he might’ve fallen asleep. Eventually, I whispered again. “Wes? Are you still awake?”
“Yeah, I’m awake. I’m just sitting here thinking of the time she walked in at an inappropriate moment when I was a teenager and had Missy Callaway over. You would’ve thought she’d learned her lesson then, but a few months later she walked in on me while I was getting dressed.”
I kind of hated Missy Callaway at the moment. Nevertheless, I sat up and started moving pillows around. “Come on. I’m making a wall between us.”
It surprised me when Wes got up and walked around to the other side of the bed. He sat down and started to swing his feet up, but his body jerked, and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
He winced, lowering himself slowly. “I threw out my back shooting hoops. I have a disc that pops in and out ever since I took a hit playing football in my senior year of high school.”
“Then why the heck did you try to sleep on the floor?”
He made pained sounds as he eased down into the mattress. “Because I didn’t want you to.”
He was in pain, yet he’d still insisted on being a gentleman. Stupid, yet it warmed me. “How do you get the disc to go back into place? Do you go to a chiropractor or something?”
“No, I tried that a few times, but it didn’t help. I usually go to this medical massage therapist. She’s able to relax all the muscles around it, and within a day or two, things go back into place.”
“I’m pretty good at giving massages…”
“That is definitely not a good idea.”
I got defensive. “Why not?”
“Because there’s a line I can’t cross with you.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Do you worry about crossing a line with your massage therapist?”
“No, but…”
“But what?”
“She’s a professional.”
“I might not have a license, but what do you think I’m going to do? Try to give you a happy ending?”
After a moment, Wes blew out a deep breath. “Fine.”
The way he said it, you’d think I’d asked him to walk before a firing squad, not enjoy a back rub. I rolled my eyes and sat up. “Roll over.”
The groans he made as he flipped onto his stomach had me second-guessing my assurance that I wouldn’t try to give him a happy ending. They were low, guttural, and so damn sexy that I had to imagine they were a lot like the sounds he made during sex.
Fuck my life. What had I gotten myself into? I needed a minute to regroup. “I’m going to wash my hands and get some lotion out of my bag.”
When I came back, Wes’s face was buried in the pillow, arms loose at his sides. I pumped some cream into my palms and rubbed them together before setting my hands on his shoulders. His muscles tightened instantly.
“Relax,” I whispered.
“Trying.”
I kneaded slowly down his back, fingers pressing into the ridges of tense muscles. When I hit a spot close to his kidneys, his breath hitched.
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
I took my time in that area, slowly pressing harder and harder. “Good?”
“Mmm…” Every response was a single word.
After the area felt looser, I moved to the spine, circling over the knots at the base. Wes let out a half-groan, half-growl that shot straight between my legs.
I cleared my throat. “Should I go deeper here?”
It took a moment for him to answer. “Yeah.”
I bent to his ear, smiling. “Are you always this talkative?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On who’s touching me.”
Lord, I was going to need a massage to relax after we finished this little session. My body felt like it had been plugged into a socket. But I tried to ignore that and focus on alleviating his pain.
I spent a good half hour releasing the tension from Wes’s muscles. Toward the end, I eased the pressure and glided my hands over his back, rubbing in the last of the lotion. “There, how was that?”
“Great.”
I smiled at yet another one-word answer and capped the lotion. Sliding back under the covers, I pulled the blanket up to my chin. After a few minutes of silence, Wes still hadn’t moved.
“Are you sleeping?” I whispered quietly.
“No.”
He turned his head to face me, but kept his eyes shut.
“Aren’t you going to roll over?” I asked. “When my back hurts, I find it helps to sleep on my back, let the spine straighten itself out.”
Wes cracked one eye open. “Can’t.”
“Can’t? Do you need help?”
“Nope.”
He looked over at my face and must’ve read the confusion because he sighed. “My body hasn’t gotten over how much it liked the massage, Juliette.”
“Oh,” I answered before the meaning sank in. “Oh!”
Wes gave a tiny shake of his head, almost amused, before his eyes closed again.
I lay with my eyes open, staring at his face in the dim light.
He looked so handsome, even half asleep.
My pulse quickened with thoughts I probably shouldn’t have indulged.
What would he do if I leaned in right now and kissed him?
Would he kiss me back? Would he flip me onto my back and pin my wrists over my head?
I knew he would be the kind of lover who didn’t ask, but took.
Rough, commanding. Addictive. And God help me, I’d love every second of it.
My dirty thoughts kept me wired long after Wes turned over and drifted off, his breaths evening out into a steady rhythm of sleep. Desperate for something to quiet my own mind, I inched closer and gently rested my head on his chest.
***