He takes the blanket out from underneath my legs and drapes it over me when my head hits the pillow. Then, he makes his way to the other side of the bed, hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, and pauses.
Warmth pools in between my legs, and I pinch my thigh to stop myself from going there.
Crossing the line with Malaki is the very last thing I need. It’d bring nothing but more drama into my—our—life, and this is something I can’t afford to screw up.
Out of the corner of my eye, Malaki stands with his thumbs hidden beneath his pants. He shakes his head briefly before seemingly deciding not to shed them.
The bed dips, right along with my heart.
When was the last time I was in bed with a man?
Benedict’s face flashes inside my head, and I hate the fear that follows it. I hate that I’m afraid of him. I hate that I don’t see a future without him in it, one way or another.
Malaki’s smooth voice drifts into the quiet room. “I’ll still buy you a bed if you want your own.”
I’m quick to refuse. “I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
Is he flirting with me?
“Not because I want to sleep with you!”
He shifts beside me. “Who said you need a bed to sleep with me? We could do that anywhere. The shower, the kitchen, a car…”
I turn my head against the pillow and brush my hair away from my face to see him better. His hands are propped behind his head, the blanket pooled around his waist. He stares at the ceiling with a grin on his face.
“I didnotmean it like that,” I huff and turn away.
He chuckles. “I know, but it’s fun to tease you.”
I kick him under the covers. “I changed my mind. You can go sleep on the couch.”
As soon as I move to drag my leg back, his hand lands on my thigh. “No take-backs, Dimples.”
My heart races.
Heat sweeps against my skin like a flame.
When he eventually lets go, I quickly turn onto my side with my back to him.
Get it together, Reese.
I try my best to think of anything besides him.
Even when I attempt to think of Benedict and his threats, I end up circling back to the moment at the arena, when Malaki swooped in and kissed me.
We lie in the quiet of his room for so long I lose track of time.
My heart slows, the comfort of his bed reminding me of how exhausted I am.
When I think he’s asleep, I allow myself to be humble. “Thank you for what you did at the arena.” I wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t, so I keep going. “Thanks for keeping the bedroom door open too.”
I’m not sure if he left it open to make me more comfortable, or if he did it because Charleigh is two rooms down. Either way, I noticed.
Right before I drift off to sleep, I swear I hear him say, “Anything for my fiancée,” in that cocky tone of his.
What time is it?
