I pull off my jeans and pull on his boxers as Warren bites a fist and dramatically throws himself back on the pillow to face the ceiling.
“What?” I ask, laughing—at his expense.
“Well, first of all. I saw your breasts for the first time, and they’re perfect. Even from the shortest viewing, which you’re evil for, by the way…” He raises himself to lean on one elbow. “Second, you said you’d be cool for sleeping with me, which is a massive ego boost.”
I slip under the covers and turn on my side to face him. His smile is even better up close.
“Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes that I want to rip them off you.” He bunches the fabric at my waist into his fist, pulling me to his lower half, where the evidence of his attraction is obvious through his sweatpants.
I bite my lip.I’ve got Warren, man of few words, giving speeches and making lists out loud.I feel powerful.
“Soon,” I say, aching for more.
He relinquishes his grip and lies flat on his back. I curl into his side, hooking one leg across him. Warren’s bed is firmer than mine but smells of him, like being in a sexy cocoon. My eyes close, despite my best efforts. His body is the perfect warmth against my cramping stomach, and his heavy breaths lull me into a deep relaxation I haven’t felt before. I can’t believe I have ever slept anywhere else but here.
He draws circles on the middle of my back. “I love you, dove,” he whispers into the still, dark room.
I fight against sleep to mumble out my next words, “When I’m not so tired, I’m going to get you to explain that nickname.”
He kisses the top of my head, breathes me in, and relaxes back into his pillow. I drift off to sleep listening to his steady heartbeat, my face resting on his bare chest.Lucky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I wake up slowly, my other senses taking in my surroundings before my eyes open. The smell of Warren and the feel of his sheets—different from mine upstairs, coarser. A welcome reminder that I slept next to him last night. My eyes blink steadily as the room around me adjusts into focus, but Warren isn’t there.
I turn, making sure he’s not behind me since I’m currently sprawled out in the centre of his bed. The clock on his side table reads 9:57 a.m. Two months ago, that would be entirely insignificant, but now, that has a whole new meaning. Warren must have gotten up with Willow, letting me sleep in.
I give myself a quick once-over in the floor-length mirror that leans next to Warren’s door. I look well rested for once. I also look like Warren’s girlfriend. In his clothes and in his room, his kisses leaving my lips swollen, his words leaving my cheeks flushed—even still.
As much as I’d love to stay in his boxers for the rest of the day, I change back into my jeans. I won’t give the shirt back though, that I may never take off—other than to put my bra back on. I step into the hallway and find two of my favourite people in the kitchen.
“Good morning.” I wrap my hands around Warren’s waist as he stands in front of the stove.Pancakes, take two.
He turns, my grip around him remains as he moves.
“You have got to take that shirt off.” He looks down at my body, leaned up close to him, and doesn’t let up his stare as I speak.
“Never! Mine now!” I hold at the hem, pouting as I go up on my toes to kiss him.
“No, seriously, it does horrible things to my brain,” he whispers against my lips, grinning ear to ear.
“Horrible?”
“Truly despicable thoughts.”
I wipe his expression away with my palm and roll my eyes as he nips at it.
“Thank you for letting me sleep.” I go back to flat feet, still pressed against him as his hand rests on my waist, spatula in his other.
“Oh, yeah—no problem. We can do that, if you’d like… take turns.” He turns to flip a pancake, and I step back.
“Wow, if old Warren could hear you now!”
“Willow has the same rule-breaking effect on me that you do. There’s nothing I can do about it,” he teases from over his shoulder.
“It must be genetic.”
“Mmm,” he mumbles in agreement.
