She then sighed and fluffed my pillows around her head, and I just watched her. The way her hair covered my pillow. The way she pressed her lips together to get some of the water that spilled on her mouth. The way her pulse raced at the base of her neck.
“I’m not kidding, Michael, I’m going to pass out in like ten minutes. You sure, you’re sure?”
“Sleep. Rest. Relax.” I squeezed her forearm. “What kind of friend would I be if I told you to get lost?”
Maybe it was me or the way the light streamed from my window, but I caught a slight frown on her face. I couldn’t be sure, but the smile that was there second before faltered. Just a bit. “The worst kind.”
“I can’t handle being the worst at anything,” I teased, needing to see that smile return. I waited, my muscles tightening when her gaze softened. I could breathe again. “I have to head out in a bit. I won’t wake you if you’re asleep. Should only be an hour. If it takes longer, I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good,” she said, her breathing becoming deeper. I got up from my bed and repositioned the covers so they rested over her. Without thinking, I bent down and pressed a quick kiss on her forehead.
“Be here when I get back, please?”
She opened her eyes and blinked at me. She stared so long I ran a hand over my mouth like I had food there or a weird mole I didn’t know about. My stomach sank like I had disappointed her, but then she nodded. “Only because you said please.”
I snorted, squeezed her knee, and got ready to go meet her dad. It was a real confusing onslaught of emotions to not want to leave her but to also go face her father. With one last look, I finished getting ready and left her in my room, hoping like hell she would still be there when I got back because things had shifted now.
We’d slept together, and it was so different from any sex I had before. That complicated theno feelingsthing we wanted to do. It’d have been easier if it was just a hot fuck and not… emotional. I pinched the bridge of my nose on the walk and focused on the leaves changing colors instead of the anxiety itching inside my chest.
Even if Iwantedmore with Naomi, she’d said no. Plus, if she did even think about being more…her dad was legit my boss. So, I had to keep remembering friends was easier and safer for me. I did not have big feelings for Naomi Fletcher, the nerdy goddess who made me feel at home despite being thousands of miles from it.
Liar.
I was in deep shit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Naomi
Why did he have to smell so good? It made everything harder to ignore when all I wanted to do was bury my face in his pillow and blankets. It wouldn’t be weird as long as I didn’t get caught.
Okay, was that the meds talking because what the hell was I doing? Smelling some guy’s sheets? My face burned with embarrassment, and I rolled over in the bed, my muscles relaxed and my mind a little fuzzy. Okay, yeah. That had to be the medicine.
I eyed the clock and bolted up. Whoa. I’d napped for three hours. In Michael’s bed. I rubbed my hands over my eyes and used the bathroom before finding my phone. Not a single text waited for me.
Wow, were my roommates the worst or what? Did they not worry about if I’d been kidnapped? I hadn’t been at the apartment all day! The audacity of them to not care! I blew out a breath and texted Mona that I’d be home soon just as footsteps thudded outside Michael’s door.
He’s back!
My heart galloped like a damn racehorse as I tried to look cool. Did I sit up straighter? Pretend to sleep? Gah! I hadn’t decided how to pose by the time he walked in, and when his gaze met mine, my entire body broke out in goosebumps. I was intelligent enough to know he looked pleased as hell to see me.
“Hey,” I said, my sleepy voice coming out all sexy and deep.
I didn’t hate how I sounded.
He wet his bottom lip before sitting on the edge of his bed and putting his hand on my leg. “Lift up that shirt.”
“I should’ve known you’d be bossy in the bedroom,” I said, unable to stop myself from teasing him. He made me feel audacious and outgoing and wild. His eyes flared, and he clicked his tongue.
He jutted his chin toward the hem of my shirt, and I lifted it up, exposing my butt and lower back. He reached out and lightly touched the bumps. I shivered, not entirely sure if I was chilly or if his touch was the cause.
“Hey, they look better,” he said.
“I don’t even feel them anymore.”
“You able to sleep a little?” he asked, his hands moving from the bumps to my lower back. He dug his strong fingers into the place right above my butt, and I groaned.
“I’m putty. That feels so good.”
