We weren’t supposed to fall asleep. We were supposed to be unable to sleep and acting out of solidarity, not snuggling.
But apparently all it took was him climbing under thecovers with me, cuddling me close for sleep to claim me. It barely took five minutes and I’m pretty sure he was talking to me when I passed out.
The sun is streaming through a crack in my curtains, making me all too aware of where I’m sweating and how bad I need a shower. My room is still in a serious state of disarray, but Sebastian is under me. He’s sleeping in my bed.
“You’re thinking too hard,” He rasps, voice dipped in sleep. His arm curls me in tighter to him, and then his face is pressing into my hair.
“I need a shower,” I cringe.
“What time is it?” I look over my shoulder toward the nightstand in the middle of the room.
“Ten fifteen.”
“Five more minutes,” He grumbles.
My fingers move down his abdomen, bumping over every ridge and dip of the muscles carved into his torso but if I stay, I’ll think too much so I drag my leg off him and start to lift against his arm caging me in.
“Five more minutes.” He repeats, rougher this time, a demand.
“I have to shower.”
“Wills,” He groans.
“You go back to sleep.” I tell him, “I need to get up.”
He reluctantly lets me go and I throw the blanket off, getting out of the bed like my ass is on fire. Fuck, I like him in my bed, his big body a touch too big, his tanned bare chest on show, his sleepy eyes following me.
“You’re adorable in the morning,” He gives me a lazy smile, eyes hooded, “Your hair is fucking wild.”
My eyes widen and I temper the urge to pat at my head like I’m stomping out flames. I know how this mess of red hair looks first thing in the morning and it’s anything but adorable.
“I’m going for a shower!” I bolt from the room and lock myself in the bathroom before I hesitantly turn to my reflection in the mirror.
Holy shit. I am a mess. My hair, which I had left up in what I guess is supposed to be a bun, is sticking out in every direction, there’s mascara smudges under my eyes and don’t get me started on what I’m wearing.
I hit the button for the shower, the water instantly hot and strip off, stepping under the spray.
Sebastian slept with me last night… okay notslept, but actually slept with me. We cuddled. All night. That’s never happened before. What do I do now?
I take my time in the shower, washing my hair and give it a deep condition before I shave every inch of my body and wash before I climb out and brush my teeth, but then realize I didn’t bring any clothes in with me.
He’s probably out of bed by now anyway…
I towel dry my hair and then wrap myself in another towel before I leave the bathroom, a cloud of steam following me out and head back to the bedroom.
Sebastian is still in my bed, but now he’s resting on my headboard, the sheets pooled around his hips.
His phone drops from his hand as his eyes bounce to me, frozen in the doorway.
I can’t even comment on the way my bedroom looks with the way he is staring at me. And this is why I’m struggling to get over the stupid crush. The way he looks at me is anything butfriendly.
I hold the towel tight over my breasts, my hair dripping cold water over my skin.
“I, um, need to get dressed.”
He nods, seemingly frozen otherwise.
“You’re in my bedroom,” I point out, “Where my clothes are.”
