“Good night, Brooks,” she murmured, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my chest.
“You too, baby.” I sighed, content for now.
She might leave tomorrow, but for the first time, I had hope she wouldn’t. And for the first time, I was ready to tell her about my mom. “I want to tell you about my mom tomorrow.”
“Only if you’re ready,” she whispered against my neck.
“I am.”
* * *
I missed Michelle’s bed.It was small and a little lumpy, but it forced us to sleep tangled together, her warmth pressed against me, her slow, steady breaths a rhythm I had unknowingly memorized. My own bed was too big, too much empty space between us, and waking up to cold sheets had never felt like this before—like something was missing.
I bolted up, expecting her to be gone, the lingering warmth of her body fading from my skin like a ghost.
But she wasn’t.
Thank God.
She lay face down, sprawled out like a starfish, her hair a mess of wild curls against my pillow, my old college T-shirt bunched up around her waist, exposing the smooth curve of her ass.
If I could take a mental picture to carry with me on bad days, this would be it.
It was barely eight in the morning, but I didn’t want her to miss anything. Not the sun creeping through the blinds, not the lazy warmth of the sheets, not the way I could wake her up the right way.
Scooting closer, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her on top of me, my hands immediately skimming down her back, over the fabric of my shirt that was now hers.
"Morning," I murmured against her bare shoulder, kissing the warm skin there.
She groaned in response, squinting one eye open, her face half-buried in my chest.
"Did you just wake me up?" Her voice was sleep-thick, raspy in a way that shot straight to my already half-hard cock.
"Yes."
"No more of that. That’s a deal-breaker for me." She let out a dramatic sigh, pressing her face deeper into my neck like she could block out the world. Her breath was warm against my collarbone, her scent a mix of sleep and faint vanilla, and I buried my face in the spot where her neck met her shoulder, inhaling her in.
"Brooks, I swear…"
“I wasn’t sure of your schedule today," I admitted, rubbing my hand down her bare thigh, feeling the slight shiver under my touch. "It’s eight. I’d hate for you to oversleep and miss something important because I kept you up."
She let out a groan, lifting her head just enough to glare at me.
"You say that like you aren’t the reason I’m exhausted."
I chuckled as she flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling with fake irritation, her hair a complete mess, her lips still kiss-swollen from last night.
"It’s hard to be annoyed with you when you’re being decent," she muttered, turning her head to look at me.
"Decent?" I smirked, rolling onto my side to face her.
Her eyes softened slightly, like she was seeing something in me she hadn’t allowed herself to before.
"I think I like you best when you smile."
I let the words settle between us for a second longer than necessary, letting them sink into my ribs and stay there.
"I’ll make sure to do it more," I murmured, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Now, breakfast. Want me to make something or do you want to go out?”
