I pull back the covers. “I have no interest in crossing the moat.”
“Good,” she says. “We arenotcuddling.”
That makes me laugh. I turn off the lights, and the room is cast in darkness. Sometimes she argues so much I think she does it for the fun of it. To distract herself and me, too.
“That wasn’t a joke,” she says, but I can hear it in her voice too.
“I know,” I say. “Don’t worry. I’d rather hold a cactus.”
There’s a beat of silence. “That was pretty out there for you. You know. As metaphors go.”
“I’ve had a bit too much to drink.”
“Me too.”
“Good night, Wilde.”
“Good night.”
I wake up with a headache.
It presses like a vise against my temples, despite the soft pillow and the warm blanket. Theverywarm blanket. I blink my eyes open to the semi-bright daylight that always floods this bedroom in the summer season.
And all I see is gold.
Wheat-colored hair covering my chest, escaping the confines of its braid. My arm is slung around her waist and she’s half draped on top of me. Her leg is intertwined with mine, and I’m holding her tight.
Her head lifts with my sharp inhale of breath.
Fuck.So much for staying on my side.
Or for her staying on hers.
I close my eyes again. Everything hurts. The headache, the aches from the fight two nights ago, and her sweetness pressed so close.
I’m hard.
Again.
It’s starting to become a real fucking problem around her. She can’t notice it, either. I’ll never live down her taunting if she does, and despite knowingthat she wants me more than she lets on, I can’t let her win that point.
I twist my hips away and lift my arm from her waist. Paige shifts her head a little. Her hair is a mess of golden tangle, gilded by the sunlight, and freckles dot across her nose.
She blinks her eyes open. They look more chestnut in this light.
“Oh,” she whispers. It’s a hint of softness, and her lips are full and so close. I know what it’s like to kiss them now. To feel her hardness melt and her taste against my tongue.
“Morning,” I mutter.
Her mouth parts in shock, and she rolls away from me. “Oh my God!” she says. We’re lying in the middle of the bed. Seems neither of us stayed put.
I sit up. “Yeah. That’s about right.”
She buries her head in a pillow and mumbles something.
“If you want to be heard, I suggest you talk to me and not to down.” I need to get up. To head straight into a cold shower. But only if she’s not looking.
She can’t know how she affects me.
