When he finally comes in wearing gray sweatpants and a Bridger Falls Fire Department t-shirt that fits him criminally well, hair damp, I refuse to look directly at him because I value my sanity.
“Want to start a new show?” he asks, as he settles into what is his side of the bed and grabs the remote. “I found a few new ones we can start when we’re done with the one we’re watching. I think we have just a few episodes left.”
How is he acting so casual? Why is this so hard for me?
“Yes, that’s fine,” I say too fast. “I’ll hurry.”
But now I need space between Ollie, who smells amazing, lying next to me on his bed. We’ve slept in the same bed countless times over the years. But now things have changed. We definitely aren’t looking at each other like we did back then.
“Take your time,” he says as he watches me, probably trying to figure out why I’m acting so weird.
I head to the shower and take a quick one, washing the day off me. I lean my head back and try to practice taking normal breaths. I towel off and dry my hair, braiding it in its usual nighttime braid.
I head back to the room and step in, just the glow of the TV lighting up the room.
I prop pillows against the headboard and put on the familiar opening credits of the show we’ve been watching for months. It’s comfortable, familiar, and safe.
Ollie’s on his side of the bed, and I’m on mine. I set up a very clear line of pillows between us like a peace treaty.
“See,” I say. “Plenty of space.”
“Thrilling,” he says, watching the TV. “I’ve always dreamed of sharing a bed with a pillow wall.”
Halfway through the episode, my eyes start to close. I fight to keep my eyes open and lose.
The next thing I know, low morning light is spilling through the curtain, and something warm is wrapped around me.
I freeze, and very carefully, I look down.
I’m curled into Ollie’s chest, my arm draped over his waist, my leg hooked over his as it belongs there. And his very hard cock is pressing into me. Morning wood. And it feels so freaking hot. Damn.
He’s still asleep, one arm around my back, hand resting at my hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I pull back slightly. “Ollie.”
He hums but doesn’t wake.
“I told you not to cuddle me.”
He opens one eye and then the other, clearly confused. “You’re cuddling me, Poppy.”
I scoff. “That’s not true.”
He glances down at our limbs, then back at me. “You’re literally wrapped around me like a koala.”
I sit up fast, cheeks burning. “I move in my sleep.”
“I can tell,” he says as he stretches, entirely too comfortable for a man who just got caught in a cuddle crime. “You snore a little, too.”
“I do not.” I scoff.
“You do,” he says. “It’s cute.”
“I hate you.”
He smiles. “No, you don’t.”
“I have to get ready,” I say finally. “First dayis today.”
