Chapter Nine #3
The opposite, in fact, and waking Jenna up so she could slide out from under her and go home to her cold and empty side of the house didn’t interest her in the slightest. Instead, she burrowed down into the couch a bit more and tightened the muscles of her right arm, which was wrapped around Jenna’s shoulders.
Jenna shifted a bit in her sleep, and that’s when Sawyer became aware of Jenna’s arm draped across her ribs, Jenna’s hand splayed over her left breast as if it belonged there, as if Sawyer’s breast was Jenna’s property, resting warmly on the swell of it, and Sawyer felt her nipple tighten at the thought.
She swallowed hard, and Jenna shifted again, and this time, it was her knee that caused havoc in Sawyer’s body. The knee of the leg that was thrown over Sawyer’s thigh, the knee that was nestled between Sawyer’s legs and pushed against her center any time Jenna moved.
And suddenly, Sawyer was wide awake.
Nibbling her lip, she glanced up at the cat, who was still staring at her with accusation. “It’s not my fault,” she whispered at the feline, who yawned widely, as if entirely bored with her very lame statement of defense. Sawyer made a face back.
She was uncomfortable now and hyperaware.
She was also wet.
And warm.
And turned on.
Jesus Christ…
But Jenna had stopped moving, and her breathing had evened out again.
The brief idea Sawyer had entertained of maybe waking her up floated away into the dim firelight of the room.
Amanda had never been a cuddler, but Sawyer loved cuddling.
Snuggling in close and holding each other—yes, please.
It was something she’d missed greatly over the past years, and as she lay there now, she thought Fuck it.
A deep breath in, a slow exhale, and her body relaxed again, muscles loosening, tension melting away.
Absently, her lips found the top of Jenna’s head, and she gave her a small kiss before settling in and letting her eyes drift closed once again.
Sleep was right there on the edge, waiting for her with open arms.
The next time she opened her eyes, it was because a slight chill hung in the air, and she was alone on the couch.
She had blankets—both hers and Jenna’s from the back of the chair across the room—but she was still cold.
She knew immediately it was because she’d lost Jenna’s body heat—how the hell had Jenna gotten up without waking her?
—and a big part of her was immediately depressed by that.
Dishes rattled in the kitchen, and she glanced at her watch.
Six fifteen on Monday morning. She knew she had a meeting in the office at nine, so she wasn’t in a huge hurry, but she did need to get up.
Instead, she lay there, thinking back on the night, about waking up to the realization that she and Jenna were wrapped up in each other and that she’d opted to keep it that way, rather than wake her up and make changes to their positions.
That had been selfish of her. It had also been the warmest and safest she’d felt in a very long time.
“Good morning.” Jenna peeked out from the kitchen and across the small dining room. “How do you take your coffee?” She didn’t sound uncomfortable, but she stayed far enough away that Sawyer couldn’t really see her face.
She reached for her glasses on the coffee table and slid them on, and Jenna came into focus. “Morning,” she said, and had to clear her throat. “Just a little sugar if you have it.”
“You got it.” Jenna disappeared back into the kitchen.
Okay. What do we do about last night?
The thought ran through her head on a loop. Do we address it or shrug it off? She pictured them laughing, waving dismissive hands, could’ve happened to anybody, falling asleep like that mid-movie. They were working women. They were tired. No biggie.
Jenna interrupted her swirling thoughts, entering the living room carrying a steaming mug. “Voilà.”
“Amazing. Thank you.” She looked up at Jenna, at those rich dark eyes, and smiled. “So.”
“So,” Jenna said, and she was nervous. Sawyer could tell by the way she subtly shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Thank you for yesterday. And for last night.” More throat clearing. Yeah, way to be smooth and calm, Hall. “It was nice to be able to talk to someone. About all of it.”
Jenna nodded, her eyes darting from Sawyer’s to the coffee table. “I’m glad I could help.”
“You did.”
“Good.”
Silence fell. Sawyer sipped her coffee, which was much too hot to be sipped, then she sat there trying hard not to be obvious about the fact that she’d just scalded her tongue and taken a layer off the roof of her mouth.
“Um. Are you hungry? I can make some breakfast.” Jenna looked both hopeful and filled with dread, and Sawyer wasn’t sure how that was possible.
“I’d love to, but I have a meeting this morning, so I should probably get home. Grab a shower. Etcetera.” Oh, God, did she just use the word etcetera in a sentence?
“Okay. Sure. No problem.” Jenna smiled softly. “I forget that my weekends aren’t the same as everybody else’s weekends.”
“Oh, you’re off today. I forgot about that.”
“Yup. It’s my Saturday.”
Again, they faltered in the silence. Jenna did the shifting thing again, and Sawyer knew if she’d been standing, she’d be doing the same thing.
“All right.” She slapped her hand on her thigh like an old man and pushed to her feet.
“Take the coffee with you,” Jenna said, gesturing to it in Sawyer’s hand. “I know where you live, so it’s not like I’ll never see my mug again.”
Sawyer grinned. “I will. Thank you.” They stood looking at each other, the coffee table between them, and Sawyer smiled tenderly. “Thank you again. For last night.” She swallowed. “All of it.”
Jenna nodded, her eyes dancing away, and headed toward the door. Sawyer stepped into her shoes as Jenna opened it and gave an exaggerated shiver. “Chilly this morning. Be careful on the long commute.”
Sawyer tried to grin but worried it appeared as more of a strange grimace. “Will do.” She stopped directly in front of Jenna, but it felt too close to stay there, too scary, and she made herself keep walking until she was safely past Jenna and on the front porch. “Enjoy your day off.”
Exactly six steps separated Jenna’s door and her own; she counted them, and Jenna didn’t close her own door until Sawyer had walked through hers. Once inside, she leaned back against the door and let out a long, slow breath.
She wondered if Jenna might be doing the same thing next door.