Chapter 06
Her mouth landed softly on mine the minute my door closed, and every rambling, worried thought disappeared from my head. Her hands framed my face while I hooked my fingers through one of the sets of cutouts in her tank top to pull her body flush against mine.
The kiss was unhurried and exploratory, full of the curiosity we couldn’t chase in front of a camera. When her tongue touched the seam of my lips, I opened without hesitation. She tasted like expensive wine and all the things I didn’t know I wanted. It was so easy to get lost in her. Her touch, her scent, her taste. I was already addicted to what little bits of herself she’d graced me with.
The apartment was dark except for the thin slits of street light through my blinds. I pulled her through the living room and down the short hall on memory alone. My mouth trailed across her jaw and down the delicate line of her neck. Her little moans were so damn perfect. I chased each one without hesitation—not to push more but rather to commit each one to memory.
“I like you,“
I whispered a little too honestly, my voice barely louder than a breath. Admitting it felt like walking out into open ground without coverage and accepting the risk.
It terrified the hell out of me.
She closed the short distance between us, her lips brushing against mine.
“I like you too,“
May murmured against my mouth.
She liked me.
The words hit harder than I expected. Something deep in my chest tightened—a tension I knew too intimately. Rejection was easy to brace for, but acceptance? I wasn’t sure what the hell to do with that.
I forced myself out of the spiral in my head and kissed her again before the doubt could sneak back up. My fingers tightened on her hips as I guided her backward to the bed. Her knees bumped the mattress, and she went down into the mountain of blankets I’d hoarded with a surprised little sound that made me smile. With a smirk, she popped back up long enough to grab my hands and yank me down with her. We landed in a tangle of fabric and limbs as the bed shifted and bounced under us.
The coiled apprehension between us snapped, breaking apart into helpless laughter. My head fell to her shoulder as I let it take over, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. My carefully constructed nest of pillows and blankets, which offered me nights of comfort, was an instant mood killer. I couldn’t help it. I liked a comfy bed.
Unfortunately, comfortable for one person and comfortable for two people were very different design philosophies. It’d been a long time since I’d had anyone in my bed. I didn’t know what worked anymore.
I rolled off her, still laughing and trying to catch my breath. The movement didn’t create any real space between us. The mattress was too small, and the blankets had a mind of their own. May followed naturally, settling next to me. Her thigh pressed against mine, her arm slipped along my stomach, her breath warm against my cheek.
Her hand found mine until our fingers threaded together. She lifted my knuckles to her mouth in a gentle kiss.
“Stay the night?“
I asked, the request surprising me. Not even an hour ago, bringing her home carried a very different expectation, one built on lust and curiosity. But lying here with her, what I wanted had shifted.
I didn’t need orgasms to make the world stop. I just wanted to fall asleep with her. I wanted to wake up and see her still here. I wanted messy hair and morning breath as proof that she wasn’t about to disappear on me.
I wanted her.
“Are you going to move some of the pillows?“
she asked, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Nope,“
I told her, grinning widely. “We’re just going to have to sleep on all of them.”
“I’m an absolute bedhog,“
she warned. The mattress bounced as she toed off her boots and let them thud on the floor. “Personal space? Never heard of her.”
“What a coincidence,“
I said, wriggling deeper into the mess to get comfortable. “Neither have I.”
“Life is far more fascinating when people are all up in your business.”
A laugh spilled out of me.
“That’s usually when I start punching people,“
I began, “so yeah, it gets interesting.”
“Oh, I’m sure.“
I could practically hear her eye roll. “It’s a good day when you get to punch someone in the face.”
“That’s been my motto for years, but my best friend keeps telling me it’s not appropriate.”
The conversation was ridiculous and easy, the kind of nonsense that only existed between two people who were trying to stay awake a little longer because neither wanted the night to end.
“My motto,“
she continued, shifting closer as the blankets rustled around us, “is all coffee is good coffee unless it’s black coffee.”
We wrestled pillows into vague submission and tugged the blankets up around our shoulders. The bed was undeniably small, but that only forced us closer. Her body fit along mine without struggle, as if we’d been doing this for years.
“There’s a special place in the world for people who drink black coffee,“
I murmured, already melting. My head settled on her chest, my ear over her heart. It beat strongly and evenly beneath me.
The rhythm of it quieted the last bit of noise in my mind. Each thump was a prominent reminder that she was real, that she was here, and that she’d chosen to stay. Maybe it was silly to put stock in such a thing, but I did. Her fingers drifted through my hair, her nails lightly scraping along my scalp in absent-minded patterns. The simple touch made my muscles loosen and my mind relax.
No unconscious tension.
No running thoughts.
No worries.
Just her.
The world blurred at the edges as sleep tugged me under faster than I expected it to. Faster than it had in years. Wrapped up in her, I slipped into the deepest sleep I’d had in years.