I make a half-hearted, unsuccessful attempt to open my eyes. “Go shower. I’ll be awake when you’re done.”
His arm slides around my waist. “I’ve already showered.”
“Mm?”
“I’ve been here twenty minutes.”
“Didn’t hear you.”
“Because you’re dead asleep.”
I shake my head sleepily. “Am not.”
I feel his smile against my skin. “If you say so. Is your hip sore?”
“Huh?”
“Your hip.” He touches my right leg, which I’ve propped up with a pillow.
“Mm. Little bit.”
His fingers slide up my thigh, then his thumb presses down hard, right into the muscle that’s been torturing me for hours.
A low noise slips out of me. “You are my favorite person.”
“Back at you.”
Sleep is tugging at me again, like a strong current I can’t fight. The room is so dark and quiet, and the sheets are so soft, and Travis’s fingers are working miracles on my hip. “I’m just gonna sleep for two more minutes,” I mumble. “Then we’re having sex.”
“Okay.”
“M’serious. Two more minutes.”
“Two more minutes,” Travis agrees. I can tell he’s just humoring me, but he’ll be eating his words in two minutes, when I muster up the strength to open my eyelids.
Although five minutes might be more realistic. Ten at the very most.
Or maybe I’ll just sleep for eleven or twelve hours, and wake Travis up in some extremely dirty way?—
A deafening ring splits the silence. My stupid phone is going off.
I moan in protest. “M’not home.”
Travis chuckles and reaches over me to turn it off. Then I feel him hesitate. “It’s Sofia.”
“Mm?”
“Sofia,” he repeats.
“Oh—fuck.” I struggle through the fog of sleep and take the phone from him, punching at it clumsily to accept the call. “Hello?”
“Jacob, it’s Sofia,” she says crisply. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” I lie. “What’s up?”
“Clayton broke his wrist,” she says. “The doctors think he might need surgery.” I look at Travis, wide-eyed, as she asks, “How soon can you get back to track?”
Chapter 3
