He grins. “Can you take your shirt off while you work? And bend down a lot, please? That would be a big help.”
I shake my head wryly but oblige him by shrugging out of my jacket, and then pulling my t-shirt over my head. “If I get splinters in my chest you’ll have to pull them out,” I warn him.
The corner of his lips curve up as he runs appreciative dark eyes over me. “Gladly.”
I let out a soft chuckle as I brush past him so I can toss my t-shirt and jacket onto the sofa, which is currently sitting right outside Skyler’s bedroom after he rearranged the living room to make space for his current project. My eyes briefly land on the pieces of timber that used to be his bed. It’s true he hasn’t slept in it for weeks, but this still seems a little drastic. I mean, this is Skyler we’re talking about here—the cynical, jaded guy who’s done nothing but scoff at the mere idea of “settling down” whenever any of our friends made the suggestion.
I turn back to him and hit him with a questioning look. “Okay, tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it… But first…are you absolutely sure you want to give up your bedroom? I mean, I know you love Rocket, but he’s a cat, Sky. He doesn’tactuallyneed his own room.”
Skyler stares at me in puzzlement for a moment before answering. “Jax, this isn’t my bedroom.”
“Huh?”
“This is just the room where I’ve been keeping all my clothes and shit. I already moved my dresser into our room. And there’s plenty of space in our closet for my suits because you have, like, two jackets and three pairs of jeans.”
I’m not sure why the words stun me. Or maybe it’s not the actual words, but the way Skyler is delivering them; as though it’s an indisputable fact that the bedroom I’d always considered “mine” is—and has always been—both of ours. And maybe he’s right. I’m sure, like me, it’s something that wouldn’t have occurred to him prior to our relationship taking this new turn, but the reality is that of the hundreds of nights we’ve spent cuddling together since moving to this apartment five years ago, I could count the ones spent in this room on one hand. All the other times were in my bed, though.Ourbed.
With rare exception, it’s always been Skyler creeping into my bed during the night rather than the other way around. I’m sure part of that is because he tends to stay up later than I do, but I think it’s mostly due to the habit he formed when we were kids.
Our bed.
I finally snap out of my stupor, a slow smile spreading over my face. I take a step closer and reach out for Skyler, sliding one hand down his back and the other into his hair as I guide his face closer for a soft kiss.
He responds without hesitation, his arms coming up to wrap around my body, drawing me closer against him as he increases the pressure of our lip cuddle.
I love this. The feel of his hard body flush against mine, his strong arms around me, warm hands grazing my bare skin. We’re so close together it feels like we could merge into one person. And I still want to be closer.
I walk Skyler back a few steps and press him against the wall, molding my body to his as we continue to kiss and touch and meld together. His hands are like sunshine on my bare skin. Sunshine and blue skies and the softest of sea breezes. And I just want to bask in it forever.
It’s only when my hand slips over the wall that I’m brought back to the present moment and remember the wet paint.
“Oh shit. I’m getting paint on your t-shirt.” I move my hands to Skyler’s shoulders and draw him a couple inches away from the freshly-painted wall, as though that’s going to somehow reverse the damage that’s already been done to the back of his shirt.
He lets out a soft breath of amusement, the corner of his lips curving up. “It’s actually your t-shirt.”
I glance down at the heather gray t-shirt he’s wearing to see it is in fact one of mine. One of my better ones, actually. I’m not sure whether to be exasperated or amused at the fact that he opted to wear this shirt for his DIY day when there’s a whole bunch of grease-stained ones he could have chosen from. But I don’t really care. I told him weeks ago I’d give him everything, and that includes t-shirts.
I slide my hands back down his torso and around his waist, leaning in to nuzzle my temple against his hair as I press him back into the wet paint. “Ourt-shirt.” I slip my hands under the t-shirt and slide them over his heated skin, ducking my head to kiss the fluttering heartbeat at his neck and reveling in the soft groans and gasps I’m drawing out of him with these simple touches. “Our room,” I murmur. “Our bed. Ourlife…” I lift one hand up to run through his hair as my lips move up to his jaw. “My Skyler.”
I know the odds of us actually finishing off this freakin’ cat bedroom today are growing slimmer and slimmer by the second now that I’ve started us down this path, but I don’t care. If Skyler wants Rocket to have a bedroom, I’ll make it happen. It’ll be the best cat bedroom anyone’s ever seen. But I can do it during the week. Or the month. Or the year.
I’m not giving up my Skyler cuddle time for the fucking cat.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Skyler
“Close your eyes!”Jackson commands, the second I open the door to our apartment on Thursday night.
Confused, but not wanting to disappoint him, I slap a hand over my eyes. “Okay, they’re closed.” It takes about two seconds for my curiosity to get the better of me and I discreetly spread my fingers just enough so I can take a peek.
“Skyler, I can see you peeking,” Jackson says with obvious exasperation. “Keep your eyesclosed.”
I let out a huff and close my fingers. “Okay,fine.They’re closed.”
“Good. Just stay there, I’ll just be a minute,” Jackson instructs.
“You’d better not be naked right now! I’m going to be really pissed if you’re naked and I’m missing it.”
