CHAPTER 6 BOWER
BOWER
“Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch?” Bennett asks, his eyes hazy, a stupid grin on his face.
He’s drunk.
Then again, so am I.
We shut down the bar because apparently the boys have a travel day tomorrow and they plan on sleeping on the plane.
Nolan came back at some point and brought us one more round of shots. Bennett and I both took one and that was about our threshold, because I like being drunk, but not unable-to-walk drunk.
Can’t remember the last time I felt this way, all wobbly and giggly, but then again, my best friend hasn’t lived near me for about two years now and my job consumes a lot of my time, so it makes sense that this is the first time in a long time that I’ve let myself have some fun outside of my home.
“I like the couch.”
“Do you?” he asks as he kicks his shoes off.
“Sure. I don’t mind it. Do you like sleeping on a couch?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Reminds me of when a couch was all Gabby and I had.”
My parents lost a lot when my dad had to start over, and there were times when food was scarce, but I never lived in poverty like Gabby and Bennett. And I forget about that sometimes, just how far they’ve come.
“That’s why I’m sleeping on it.”
He goes to the kitchen and grabs two glasses, filling them up with water for the both of us. “I know, but it makes me feel bad. Do you want my bed? You can have my bed. Take my bed.”
“I’m not taking your bed.”
“I can change the sheets again.” He walks up to me and hands me some water.
“No, you sleep in your bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He sips from his glass, his eyes staring at me over the rim. “You can always share the bed with me. You can have your side, and I can have my side.”
I must be very drunk because the thought of that actually makes me happy.
Thrilled.
Excited.
But sharing a bed with Bennett…yeah, that would be weird, right?
“Sharing the bed seems risky.”
“Why?” he asks, a drunk smirk on his face. “Scared of me?”
“Of you?” I scoff. “No.” I shake my head. “Not even the slightest.”
“Afraid I snore? Because I don’t. I’m an excellent sleeper.”
“How do you know?”
He tips his glass back to his mouth, drinks down the rest of his water, and then sets his glass down and heads toward his bedroom.
“I’ve been complimented on my sleeping habits,” he says.
I follow him to the threshold of his bedroom as I say, “And who has offered these compliments?”
He takes his hat off his head, showing off his unruly brown hair that he quickly runs his hand through, causing it to cutely stick up on all ends.
“Women,” he answers as he reaches behind his neck, grabs his shirt, and yanks it over his head, then drops it into a hamper before turning toward me.
Oh.
My.
God.
My eyes are like a magnet to his rock-hard chest. Well-defined pecs, broad, muscular shoulders with arms to match, but what’s taking up all of my interest right now is the six-pack of abs stacked on his stomach, along with the V in his hips. I have only read about those, never seen them.
There’s not a single hair on his chest, but there’s a small patch of hair just below his belly button that’s trimmed.
His skin is smooth, carved, so lickable that I actually fear for my life, because given just how drunk I am, how horny I am, and the snack standing right in front of me, I’m afraid this girl will have no self-control.
“You’re staring,” he says, breaking my thoughts up.
“Because you took your shirt off and shocked the hell out of me.”
He glances down at himself and then back up at me. “See something you like?”
Oh my God, Bennett!
Wait, no…oh my God, me. What am I even doing?
I’m staring at him when I shouldn’t be staring at him, and yet I can’t stop myself. Nor can I stop the words coming out of my mouth.
“I’d be stupid if I said I didn’t like a good set of abs. Nolan wasn’t kidding.”
“He wasn’t kidding about a lot of things,” Bennett says before winking and then heading into the bathroom, bringing my thoughts to what Nolan said about the whole “package.” From the bathroom, he calls out, “Are you going to get ready for bed, or are you just going to stand there, looking for another free show?”
And when did he get so sassy?
“I’m getting ready,” I say as I turn away from him and go to my corner of the living room.
I snag a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt from my suitcase and quickly change into them, excluding underwear, because I can’t deal with that shit when I’m sleeping.
I tie my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head, and I remove my makeup with my wipes before heading into the bathroom, where I’ll wash my face and brush my teeth.
When I enter his bedroom, he’s in his bed, the covers up to his waist, making it look like he’s naked under the sheets.
Yup, this girl needs some sleep and fast.
I finish up in the bathroom by washing my face, brushing my teeth, and then lotioning up before I exit and find Bennett lying there still, waiting.
But waiting for what? Does he really think I’m going to share a bed with him?
He’s lost his mind if he does think that.
“Okay, well…all ready for bed,” I say awkwardly.
“I see that.” He pulls down the sheets on the other side of the bed, indicating that I’m to join him.
I chuckle and shake my head. “Not a good idea.”
He raises a single brow in that cute way he does. “Why not? Afraid your hands will wander?”
Uh, yeah.
I am.
“Just think you need your space so you get the best rest.”
“Trust me, you being beside me in bed is not going to interrupt my sleep.”
He says that now until he wakes up to my tongue circling his belly button.
“I just think it might be best—”
“Just get over here,” he says with an eye roll that says I’m being ridiculous.
And honestly, I feel like that eye roll is justified, because normally this wouldn’t be a big deal.
Hell, I’ve borrowed his clothes before, his deodorant…
I even used his toothbrush before without him knowing. So why am I being hesitant now?
“You’re right,” I say, tossing my hands up as if I’m the one being crazy.
Because maybe I am.
He shows me a set of abs and I have a wonderful time with him, and all of a sudden I’m afraid to be around him?
This is Bennett, for crying out loud.
I walk to “my side” of the bed and slip under the covers, immediately sinking into the softness of them.
“Oh my God, Bennett, this bedding is incredible.” He switches off his nightstand light and turns toward me, the glow of the moon the only thing shining light down upon us.
“I spent far too long picking out the best bedding.”
“Because you never had good bedding growing up?”
“Correct,” he says.
“But look at you now. You have money, a home, a comfortable bed. You have it all.”
“I don’t have it all,” he says, his eyes intent on me. “But I intend to have it all.”
“And what does ‘having it all’ mean to you?”
“The girl I want,” he says. “The life I’ve dreamed of.”
My eyes drift shut for a moment before I open them again. “Does that include kids?”
“Yeah, at least two.”
“Respectable,” I say on a sigh. “I want kids too.”
“How many?”
I shrug and shut my eyes again. “Don’t really care, but I need to make something of myself first.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asks as the booze in my body slowly starts to shut me down for slumber. “Bower?”
“Hmmm?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and then I move in close to him for warmth and rest my head in the crook of his arm and chest and wrap my leg around his, finding so much comfort in his body.
There.
That’s perfect.
Just what I need.
And when his arm wraps around me, holding me close, I feel myself finally drift off to sleep.
The smell of coffee is the first thing that wakes me up.
The sound of Bennett cursing to high heaven is the second thing.
I sit up, trying to gather my surroundings.
White walls, light gray curtains, matching light gray blankets, and a comfortable-as-hell bed.
I’m in Bennett’s room.
Oh FUCK, I’m in Bennett’s bed.
I quickly look down at myself and see that I’m fully clothed, but not just clothed, I’m in a T-shirt and shorts.
Thank God for that.
I do a quick scan of the room for any evidence of misbehavior, but when I don’t see a condom wrapper in sight, and nor do I feel the utter satisfaction of being with someone, I know that nothing happened last night.
With that knowledge firmly in place, I slowly get out of bed because, well, hangover, and head toward the kitchen, where I find Bennett on the ground in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, holding his foot.
“Uh…are you okay?”
“Stubbed my fucking toe on the fucking dining room fucking table.”
“That’s a lot of fuckings.”
“That’s how bad it hurt.”
“Can I help you?” I ask, even though the pain of my pounding head is probably going to prevent me from leaning down to help him out.
“Nah, I’m fine,” he says before flexing his foot and then hopping up from the ground and walking straight to the kitchen as if he didn’t spend the night drinking his body weight in booze.
He grabs two mugs and starts pouring us both coffee as my eyes wander over his chest, reminding me of the first time I saw it last night.
Bennett Brinkman is all grown up.
Not just grown up but ripped.
He doesn’t just have muscles, no, there isn’t an ounce of body fat on him.
His muscles seem to pop right underneath his skin, his veins in his forearms flexing as he pours a cup of coffee, and his pecs seem thicker than I even remember from last night.
Strong, powerful, can probably spend a good amount of time tossing a woman around in bed…
“I ordered some breakfast tacos,” he says as he lifts up to hand me my coffee. I direct my eyes to his face just in time. “Got the kind with crispy bacon that I know you like.”
“How do you know I like that?”
He smirks over his mug. “I pay attention to shit.” He sets his mug down and allows his eyes to scan over me. “Are you hungover?”