Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Cora
Iwake up to the lack of an alarm, and I almost panic, thinking I must’ve slept through it—until I remember that today is Saturday. My eyes flutter closed again, but as they do, my senses begin to register a number of things.
I’m warm. Not necessarily uncomfortably so, but quite a bit warmer than I normally am when I wake up.
There is another person in bed with me, their arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against them.
My oversized t-shirt has tangled in the night and is now bunched up past my waist.
And there is a hand cupping my bare breast.
Well, maybe not the entirety of my breast, but the underside of it. Most of it.
I immediately freeze, memories of last night hitting me like a truck. The dream, Theo waking me up, me asking him to stay. I asked him to stay. It seems like such an insanely inappropriate request, and yet I’d been so upset, so blinded by emotion, that I’d asked it anyway.
And he hadn’t hesitated at all. He’d climbed into bed with me, and then … I’d fallen asleep.
And now we’re tangled together, half naked, in the crisp, morning light.
His rough, calloused hand is hot against my skin, seemingly hotter the more awareness I put to it. I haven’t had anyone touch me … well, anywhere, in quite some time. And, fuck, it feels kind of nice.
But this is Theo.
Theo.
And I should really wake him up so we can get the hell out of this bed and try to avoid making this worse. I shift slightly, and in response, Theo’s hand flexes, his thumb moving and grazing the underside of my nipple.
I gasp quietly, heat pooling in my core.
He grumbles in his sleep. The most intensely masculine, husky sound I think I’ve ever heard.
Okay, no, no, no. We need to stop this.
I turn, rolling over so that I’m on my back now, his hand sliding away from my breast—thankfully.
I’m about to sit up, but Theo’s arm is reaching around my body again, his hand pressing into the bare skin of lower back as he pulls me toward him.
I yelp in surprise, facing him now, our bodies practically flush.
And it’s then that I notice he’s … well …
I swallow, glancing down between us. I know it’s normal for guys to get hard-ons in their sleep, I know that, but holy shit, how did this situation get so out of hand?
He sighs in his sleep, his hand absentmindedly gripping the flesh of my side, right where it dips to my waist. My hand instinctively moves to his chest, my breathing ragged.
If I thought I was hot before, I definitely am now.
My gaze wanders to where my hand rests against the fabric of Theo’s thin t-shirt.
Even though I can’t see through it, I can feel the definition beneath it. Fuck, when did Theo get so … hot?
Was he always this hot? Certainly I would have noticed, right?
He grumbles again, stretching slightly, and my core tightens and … holy fuck, I’m wet. I’m actually wet because Theo Strickland is making noises in his sleep that no man has the right to be making.
And this is so goddamn inappropriate.
“Theo,” I breathe. He has to wake up. He’s asleep and has no idea what’s going on, and I need to put a stop to this. “Theo,” I say a bit louder.
He grumbles, taking a deep breath, his hand roving over the dip of my waist and then the slope of my hip. I practically whimper.
And then his eyes open. And for one spectacular moment, I’m lost in them. How gorgeous they are, how blue they are, how bright they look first thing in the morning.
He stares down at me for a couple heartbeats, and then slowly, everything seems to dawn on him. His hand on my bare hip, my t-shirt that’s ridden up to just below my breasts, my hand on his chest, how close we are … and his erection that’s impossible to ignore.
His mouth parts, but no words come out. And for some reason, I can’t seem to find any either. So we just lie like that, staring at each other, unmoving.
“You stayed all night,” I finally force out, the words barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he answers, then clears his throat, “yeah.”
The silence stretches between us, charged.
“We’re … really close.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but for some reason I feel like pointing out the elephant in the room might make it less intimidating.
Theo swallows slowly, his gaze dipping to my lips. “Yeah,” he says again, his voice low, deep. My stomach summersaults.
His gaze flits back to mine. And I don’t know if he’s moving toward me or I’m moving toward him, but we’re definitely getting closer. So close. Close enough to take our friendship and break it into a million pieces.
Until a loud knock startles both of us still. Loud, but distant. My mouth parts in surprise. “What …?” I start.
But the knock sounds again. Louder. The front door.
“Theodore Strickland!” a voice calls. Cheerful but slightly annoyed.
Theo’s eyes go wide, and he sits up so fast, I’m worried he’ll get a head rush. I’m frowning in confusion, especially at his reaction. “Who is that?” I ask as Theo jumps out of bed and rushes for the door.
He calls over his shoulder as he darts into the hallway, “My mom.”