It’s a fairly standard hotel room, though on the smaller side. Standing, I leave him to change. We had a really good date, Irelived some trauma, and now here we are. What the fuck is my life?
My back sags against the bathroom door as I bring his sweatshirt up to my nose and breathe in deeply. I’ll skip the self heating coat and take this instead. Sighing, I set it aside on the counter and pull off my clothes. His sweatshirt hits my thighs with our height and weight difference, and I wince at how uncomfortable my panties are against me. They’re wet with slick.
Hesitating for less than a second, I pull them off and hide them in my clothing. Looking through the bottles on the counter, I find face wash which surprises me, and lather up my skin to wash away all the makeup. While I did use a lighter hand, I like dark colored eye shadow and liner. Add to that the fact that I cried earlier, and I’m grateful to have clean skin.
Patting my face dry, I squeeze out some toothpaste onto my finger and quickly brush my teeth the best I can. Lastly, I use the toilet, wash and dry my hands, and say goodbye to my bubble of escape.
“All good?” Miles asks, wearing a pair of sleep shorts. This alpha has muscles for days, and I almost swallow my tongue as my eyes move over his body. “Caelia?”
His shoulders tremble with repressed laughter as I force my eyes back to his face.
“Yes?” I ask, blinking hard. “Don’t laugh, Miles. Have you seen yourself?”
“Clearly not through your eyes,” he admits. “I’m really enjoying how much you’re appreciating my body.”
Ugh, this alpha. Moving over to the bed, I find my bag and shoot my dad a message that I’m safe before putting my phone on silent.
“I have a couple of chargers on that side of the bed if you want one,” Miles says before he goes into the bathroom.
Finding one that’ll work for my phone since I left my charger in the car, I climb into the bed. I feel tiny inside of it and bite my lip as I move into the middle of it as if that’ll help. Dropping back on the soft pillows, I stare at the couch that’s more like a chaise, unable to figure out how Miles is supposed to sleep on that thing.
He catches me scowling as he comes back out of the bathroom.
“You can’t sleep on the couch,” I announce.
“Yes, I can,” he says, ignoring me.
“It’s going to wreck your back.” I add.
“I already did that when I injured myself playing hockey,” he shrugs.
“Miles.” I watch as he attempts to get comfortable on this tiny excuse for a couch and growl.
“What are you getting all upset about?” he asks, his lips twitching.
“You know what. Get in the fucking bed!”
“Are you going to be in it with me?” Miles asks.
“Yes,” I groan. “You can’t sleep on that fucking thing.”
“Such a dirty mouth,” he teases, getting up and walking over. He plugs his phone in, turns out the light, and I feel more than see as he gets into the bed.
His body depresses the mattress, and I attempt to scoot more to give him room.
“Caelia,” he murmurs, as if in admonishment, making me freeze.
“What?” I ask.
Miles presses his body against my back, and I feel as the tension he seems to carry seems to bleed away.
“If I’m sleeping with you, I want to hold you,” he says. “Can we do that?”
His arm slides under my pillow and his other hand settles on my stomach. I feel like the little spoon in this cuddle session.
“Um, I think we can,” I murmur, hoping he’ll fall asleep first because I don’t think I’ll be able to with him plastered against me. I am toasty and warm though.
I wait silently, listening to his breathing, before he snorts in amusement.
