Chapter 8 #2
Cameron’s head snapped up at that and I gave him a grin so he’d know I was joking, not judging. After a second his mouth curved up in a smile and he said, “Trust me when I say we’re fine on that count.”
“Then I’m good,” I said.
“Do you need anything else?” Cameron asked. “More painkillers?”
I stretched my arms over my head and winced.
“Maybe? But I can get them.” I went back out to the kitchen for a glass of water and took a couple more pain pills, and Cameron disappeared into the bathroom.
A moment later there was the sound of running water, and I figured he was showering the last of today’s bullshit away as well.
I went back to the bedroom and, picking the side of the bed where there wasn’t the imprint of a head on the pillow, I slipped between the covers. The feather quilt swallowed me up like a hug, and I let out a sigh that was part pleasure, part relief.
While I still wasn’t convinced I needed medical supervision, I had to admit that it was kind of touching how attentive Cameron was.
There were plenty of people who would have just dumped my ass in the emergency room and left, but Cameron had not only stuck around but volunteered to watch me overnight.
And sure, some of it was definitely that he didn’t want to be known as the Hit and Run Librarian of Sugar Hollow, but it was nice to think that maybe it was because he liked me.
I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes against the dim light of the bedside lamp, and I was half-asleep by the time the bedroom door creaked slowly open.
A second later there was the quiet thud of a body landing on the mattress, and I barely had time to think that Cameron must weigh next to nothing before something wet and rough rasped against my cheek and a blast of warm breath that reeked of fish hit my face.
I wasn’t proud of the shriek I let out. I lurched upright, my heart hammering against my ribs, and Asshole gave an angry yowl as she tumbled off the bed and hit the ground with a thump.
“Finn?” The door flew open and Cameron all but ran into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs.
“That fucking cat tried to kill me!” I said, my chest still heaving. I glared at Asshole and she glared right back.
“Really?” Cameron grabbed the cat off the floor, tucking her firmly under his arm. “What did she do?”
“She… she licked me.”
Cameron raised one eyebrow. “She licked you?”
And okay, it sounded a lot less dramatic when he said it.
“I was nearly asleep,” I added, and wow, that made me seem even more pathetic.
“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, but I could tell he was fighting back a smile. “I thought she’d sleep on the couch once I let her out of the laundry room. She doesn’t like strangers, so I figured she’d steer clear of the bedroom.”
“Does she always lick the people you bring home?” I asked as my heart rate tripped and stuttered its way back to something resembling a normal rhythm.
Cameron bit his lip. “Up until now I haven’t brought anyone home. You’re the first.”
I was almost flattered, until I remembered that I was the one who’d suggested—insisted, really—that we come to his place. I didn’t get a chance to feel bad about it, though, because Cameron’s mouth tipped up in a grin. “So she really licked you?”
“Yeah. I was almost asleep, and next minute there was a tongue on my cheek and tuna breath. Scared the bejesus out of me.”
Cameron blinked at me for a second before he let out an ugly snort that turned into a full-bodied laugh, and I found myself laughing too. I mean, it was pretty funny when you thought about it.
Asshole grumbled and meowled in his grip, and once Cameron had stopped laughing quite so hard, he put her outside and closed the door. “She’s staying out there,” he said, still grinning, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t heave a sigh of relief.
I’d already been hit by a car today, okay? I wasn’t prepared to fend off a jealous cat. Not that there was anything to be jealous of. It wasn’t like Cameron and I were planning to get it on or anything.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice that he had a cute little butt that he’d been hiding away, and I took a minute to admire his slim build before he dragged a tee out of a drawer and pulled it over his head.
He stood there worrying at the corner of his thumbnail before he took a deep breath and said, all in a rush, “Will it make things too weird if I sleep in my boxers? Only, I can’t sleep wearing sleep pants.
” He rolled his eyes at himself. “It sounds dumb, I know.”
I grinned. “It’s fine by me, as long as I get to be on Team No Pants In Bed as well. Because these sweats do not fit me, like, at all.”
“Deal.”
I peeled off my too-small sweats and kicked them out from under the covers before settling back down, and a moment later there was the click of the bedside lamp and the rustle of blankets, and the mattress dipped. A hand brushed my spine through my tee and Cameron stilled, muttering, “Sorry.”
He rolled onto his back and we both lay there as stiff and unmoving as a couple of Easter Island statues.
Our breathing was loud in the silence, and it was awkward as fuck.
When I shifted slightly, Cameron’s breath hitched as my thigh pressed against his.
I sighed and wondered if it was possible for a bed to shrink once the lights went out.
But it wasn’t like I could lie like this all night.
I was a mover by nature and a cuddler to boot.
I decided I might as well warn Cameron what he was dealing with.
“Listen,” I said into the darkness. “Full disclosure, I’m probably gonna move in my sleep. I might even sleep-snuggle you. If that’s a problem, let me know now and I’ll go sleep in the cat puke.”
There was a moment’s silence and then Cameron said, “Same, honestly.”
“Yeah? So you’re good with accidental spooning?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “There’s actually a good chance you’ll wake up trapped in a bear hug.”
And maybe it was the painkillers kicking in, but I found myself saying, “You know, I could probably use a bear hug after the day I’ve had.”
There was another moment’s silence before he said, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Seconds that felt like hours passed, and then a slender arm wrapped around my waist. Heat radiated off Cameron’s body as he settled behind me, a warm, solid weight.
I put my hand over his, threading our fingers together, and he didn’t pull away.
Instead he rested his head against the back of my neck, his breaths quick and warm and blessedly free of tuna.
Our bodies created a comfortable pocket of heat under the quilt, and it was pretty fucking great, actually.
It didn’t take long before I felt sleep pulling me under, and my last thought before I passed out with Cameron pressed against my back, his breathing slow and even, was that if we had to share a bed, we might as well get some quality cuddling out of it.