“Oh shit,” I cry out after forgetting Freya’s warning and turning the faucet on. The water hits the bottom of the sink and immediately shoots back out, hitting me in the stomach and soaking my shirt.
I’m laughing as I reach to turn it down.
“You okay?” Freya calls from the other side of the door, no doubt knowing exactly what just happened.
“Yep. All good,” I say as I reach for the toothbrush and do my thing.
Two minutes later, I’m pulling the door open to a pair of amused eyes.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she mocks, her gaze dropping to my wet clothes.
“I forgot,” I mutter as I walk around to the empty side of her bed. Her eyes follow me, and I’d be lying if I said her attention didn’t make my temperature increase with every step.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I reach for the unused pillows and drop them to the floor.
“Making my bed.”
“Cole,” she breathes as I reach for the comforter folded at the bottom of her bed. “Stop,” she begs, reaching forward and wrapping her hand around my forearm.
I look down at where her pale fingers rest against my darker skin, fire shooting up my arm from that innocent touch.
“You’re not sleeping on the floor. That’s worse than the couch.”
I shake my head. “It’s really okay. I promise you; I’ve slept in plenty worse places over the years.”
“No, my dad would never forgive me,” she argues.
The mention of her father douses a little of the inferno that’s raging inside me.
I look back at her. Her eyes are wide, begging me to concede.
The problem is, I’m not sure she fully understands just how much I want to do exactly that.
“Sleep in the bed,” she insists. “There’s more than enough space for both of us.”
“Trust me, space isn’t the issue,” I mutter under my breath. I’d happily sleep with her in a twin-sized bed.
Her breath catches as I bend to retrieve the pillows I threw to the floor.
I stare at the empty side of the bed for a few seconds before glancing up at her. She’s sitting with her legs bent and her arms wrapped around her knees, waiting for me.
With a nod, I reach for my belt.
“I…uh…”
“Just take them off and get in,” she demands.
With a heavy sigh, I force myself not to think about what I’m about to do and shove my jeans down my legs. I peel my socks off and then hesitate with my T-shirt. It’s soaked and sticking to my stomach. But if I take it off, I’m going to be revealing a hell of a lot more skin than she is, and…
“Casey showed me your new advertising campaign,” Freya blurts as I stand there, questioning my life choices.
“Oh?”
“She wasn’t meant to, but…she sent them to me anyway. She thought…she thought I’d enjoy them.”
Her cheeks are rosy red, and she bites down on her bottom lip.
Fuck it.
