Panic and horror fill me with equal measure as I pull back to look at him just in time to see his eyes flutter open. He stares at me for a moment, his gaze filled with confusion before everything seems to click.
I roll away from him, only to fall right off the sofa and land on the floor with a thud, but the embarrassment ofthatis washed away with what I’ve just done.
What if he hates me for it?
What if he’s so disgusted that he never speaks to me again?
Oh god, what if he?—
“Shit, Gracie,” he murmurs and rubs a hand over his face. My heartbeat picks up and my pulse drums in my ears. Is he about to lose his shit? Kick me out? What if I’ve traumatized him?
Oh Jesus, I took something that wasn’t mine to take.
“I’m sorry.”
Everything crashes to a halt as I realize that the words didn’t come from me, but from him.
“W-what?” I stutter, my brain struggling to catch up on what’s happening.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell happened while we were sleeping, but I must have pulled you to me at some point,” he says, his eyes wide and apologetic. “I bet the last thing you expected to wake up to was being poked by my morning wood.” He cringes and covers himself with one of the decorate pillows.
“I’m fucking this up,” he whispers to himself more than me before pinning me with his gaze and clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, little one and I hope you can forgive me.”
I… I have no words.
He’sapologizing tome?
Clearly, he has no idea what I did.
Should I tell him?
What if it ruins the friendship that’s been building between us?
Frustration and guilt war with each other and I find myself speaking before I’ve even fully processed what to say. “It’s okay,” I rasp. “It happens, no big deal.”
Yes, the morning wood is no big deal.
Whatisa big deal is that I’ve just fuckinggot myself off against him.
Holy shit, I’m going to hell.
I am an absolutely fucking horrible person.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I turn away from him, unable to look at him with the shame that’s currently filling me.
“I’m just gonna go get dressed, help yourself to coffee, little one.”
I’m aware of his movements as he leaves the room and I use the time of him being gone to pull myself together.
I will tell him what I did.
But not yet… not today.
I need to process everything before I can speak the words, and I’ll just have to hope like hell that he forgives me.
TWENTY-EIGHT
NOAH
