Chapter 9
Piper
I hear something in the distance, but I feel like it is so far away.
I’m so comfortable and relaxed. Which is something that is confusing to me.
It is like I am under water. My bed starts to move, and I realize something is different.
Something is rubbing my back. I hear a soft voice murmuring my name.
I take a deep breath and immediately smell something piney and citrusy and clean and very male.
My eyes pop open and I’m met with a smooth muscular pec that is covered in intricate ink.
Before I can investigate it, I try to scramble back to put space between Holt and I.
How did we get here? His arms are firm, but he did let me put some space between us.
I just need a few inches so that he doesn’t feel my less than toned midsection.
Holt seems oblivious to my predicament, and chuckles lightly. I feel like I have entered some sort of alternate universe, or the twilight zone. Maybe I am still asleep.
“Morning,” his voice rumbles. It is rough with sleep, and it makes my stomach flip flop like I’m on a rollercoaster.
“Morning,” I respond mechanically. I look up at him and see his calculated gaze inspecting me. Quickly, I avert my gaze and ask a question to distract him.
“What time is it,” I ask. I do need to know. I have to get to the cafe. He clears his throat and pauses. For a minute, I wonder if he plans to answer my question.
“A few minutes after 4:00,” he speaks lowly.
I wince. I’m so glad that tomorrow I can sleep in.
I just need a few hours. I try to roll off the bed again and Holt keeps me there.
My cheeks get hot as I realize we are still cuddling.
How did we get here? That question keeps repeating itself in my brain.
The problem is, if I ask I may not like the answer. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, and maybe I’ll lie to myself a little about this situation. Holt can sense the unasked question hanging in the air.
“You were having a nightmare, I came in to try to wake you up. I must of fallen asleep,” he shrugs.
SHRUGS, as if it is no big deal. And to him, it probably isn’t.
I’m sure he finds himself in this situation frequently.
For me, this is a highly unusual occurrence.
I try to brush it off and follow his lead though.
“Sorry I woke you up,” the apology is true. I feel bad that we both had uninterrupted sleep because of my overactive brain.
“Piper,” he says my name in a scolding tone. I look up at his face. He looks frustrated. With me?
“You don’t need to apologize every 5 minutes,” he says. His tone is a bit lighter, but I sense the seriousness behind the statement.
“In fact, I would suggest that you don’t. Unless you want to face the consequences,” his tone is still serious.
I look up and see a gleam in his blue eyes. He is mischievous and playful, but under that, he is a bit of a mystery. I snicker.
“Consequences, sure, sure,” I appreciate him lightening the mood. All of a sudden, I feel a hand spank my butt cheek, hard. I squeak, a sound I didn’t know I was capable emitting, and look up at him. He nods in agreement.
“Consequences,” he confirms. Before I can say anything he gets up. My mouth drops open as I take in his shirtless frame.
The boxers he is wearing leave little to the imagination. Holt has different shades of grey and black ink running up his muscular left arm and over his left pec. His toned body is on full display, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
“Piper,” I hear his voice as if it is far away.
Shaking my head I look up at his ridiculously symmetrical face—with the exception of a slightly crooked nose.
It must have been broken at some point in his life.
You would think that would detract from his good looks.
It does the opposite. He has a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
“Yes,” I answer. My tone must sound confused. Holt chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. His biceps flexing and bulging as he does it.
“It’s almost 4:30. Don’t you need to be at the cafe in an hour,” he asks, knowingly. His statement gets me moving. I roll out of bed so fast, I almost fall on my face. I quickly right myself.
“Mind if I jump in your shower quick,” Holt asks me as I am heading to my small closet to find something to wear.
“Go ahead, there are extra towels under the sink,” I mumble. Trying to ignore the fact that I was naked in there less than 8 hours ago, and now he will be too. I’m so annoyed with my train of thought that I could smack myself. My internal ramblings sound so juvenile.
It’s only after Holt has left the room and I am still debating about my pathetic wardrobe choices, does it dawn on me that Holt spanked me. Spanked! My cheeks warm, and I run my hands through my hair before I rub my face. Get it together.
I reach for another oversized sweater and grab a pair of black leggings from my dresser. Listening out, I still hear the shower running so I strip off my pajamas, and pull on a bra and the clothes quickly.
A few minutes later, i’m slipping a pair of mismatched socks on my feet when Holt walks back into my bedroom. Shirtless, with his jeans unbuttoned. His hair is damp and there are still a few droplets of water glistening on his torso. Is he trying to give me a heart attack?
“I can drop you off at the cafe this morning,” he states as if we do this all the time. I open my mouth to refuse, he doesn’t need to chauffeur me around, but he cuts me off.
“I’ll do a security walk through at the cafe, and then I’ll head out to grab some shit from the office to install here tonight,” he finishes before walking out. My mouth is hanging open.
“Good talk,” I mutter quietly, rolling my eyes. Taking a few deep breaths to center myself for this day, I stand and walk out to the living room. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed, but Holt has pulled his shirt over his head and is bending down to grab his boots.
I am internally debating whether or not to try to argue with Holt about this, and wonder if I should call Meg later today. Maybe she can help me convince him that he doesn’t need to do this.
I sit on the couch and start putting my converse on. I can feel Holt watching me and I try to ignore the feel of his stare.
“You’ll need another jacket. It will get chilly on the back of my bike,” he states simply. I freeze in the middle of tying my shoe. Suddenly, I realized I haven’t ever been on a motorcycle. Thinking of the logistics makes my blood pressure spike.
“You’ll be fine, just hold on to me and follow my lead,” Holt says in a relaxed tone. He doesn’t realize that not only am I thinking of the potential of my imminent death, but also if I’m going to fit on it.
I swallow hard and just pray to all the gods that it will work out. I nod my head quietly and go back into my bedroom to grab a jacket. I come back out putting it on, and see that Holt is standing by the door.
“Ready,” he asks me, as he pulls on his leather riding jacket. He looks the part. Me? Not so much.
“Sure,” I say as I follow him out.