I hope I’ve shown him that today—not only that I care about him but also that he’s worthy of everything he wants and needs. I hope he knows.
He mumbles something quietly in his sleep and shifts again, and when I open my eyes, he’s facing away from me, though he’s still much closer than he had been at first.
I smile and whisper, “Sleep well.” Then I close my eyes as I settle deeper into my spot.
Iburymyfaceinto something soft, something dreamy and pleasant, and I inhale deeply. The faint scent of vanilla makes a smile tease at my lips, and I hum as I nuzzle in a little more. “Mmm.”
A warm solidness is pressed flush against my chest, and I’m not really thinking, still waking up from whatever pleasant dreams I was having, as my arm slides around and pulls the warmth up against me tighter.
It feels likehim, though I’m sure it can’t be, and in my half-awake state, I marvel at how perfectly we fit together. Like I always knew we would. I stay there for several long moments, breathing him in, feeling his warmth, sure I’m going to wake up for real any second.
It’s only after I bury my face into his neck as my hand starts to caress upward that he tenses.
He.
Him.
Nico.
I . . . Holy crap.
“Shit, Nico, I—I’m sorry.” My mind seems to finally catch up with my body, and I realize that Iamawake and Iamholding him, cuddled up against his back with my arm wrapped around his torso, my palm flattened against his chest over the top of his T-shirt. I go to pull away, but his hand grabs mine, and he presses it into him.
“Please. Please... stay.” He swallows audibly, and I feel him shudder into me. “Please.”
God.
His hand is gripping mine tightly, and tension pulls his shoulders inward as he shrinks a little. But he shrinksback into me, not away, and I close my eyes and lower myself back into my spot on the bed.
He wants me to stay. Here. Holding him. He wants me to hold him. Just like this.
He’s warm. And... god, we do fit perfectly together.
Is this supposed to be platonic?
Holy hell, what am I doing?
“Okay,” I say, and I inhale and exhale a slow breath as he sort of tugs me back into that place I found a few moments ago that was so comfortable, holding him tightly against me with my hand on his chest and my face buried in his hair. My legs are slightly bent, and the curve of his ass sits right at the top of my thighs.
Ah, damn. I’m not sure if this reallyisokay.
But then some of his tension seems to leave him, and he shifts a tiny bit, stretching one of his legs out to wedge it between mine. And that’s even better. I inhale again slowly. He smells faintly of vanilla, and he’s so warm, and this is so perfect.
“Thank you,” he breathes, his voice barely audible.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
I nuzzle the back of his neck slightly, like I had earlier when I thought I was asleep, and god, how I want to kiss him. But I stop myself. Instead, I close my eyes and tighten my arm around him, humming quietly against his skin. “Mmm, is this okay?”
He takes a long, slow breath in and lets it out, and the tiny tremor in his body fades, along with all the rest of the tension in his shoulders. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s... it’s perfect.”
My heart flutters, and I wonder if he can feel me smiling against him. “Okay. Cool. Um, good night again.”
He doesn’t say anything this time, but he takes another of those long breaths, and his hand comes up to cover mine on his chest.
Itisperfect. I’m really not sure there’s ever been anything more perfect.
I lie there quietly for what seems like a long time, just holding him. I doubt I can sleep like this, but he falls back into a gentle sleep within only a few minutes, his body relaxed into mine, his breathing deep and slow. And my heart feels full and grateful.
