“So do you often throw things everywhere?” I asked.
“So you never return things often?”
Caught off guard, I furrowed my brows, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. The hoodie.
“Turn around,” I ordered.
James curled his lips and started laughing. “You’re such a dumbass.”
“And meanwhile you’re still not turning around, or am I wrong?”
“Like I’ve never seen a pair of tits.” He was a lost cause. Why did I listen to him at all? I went to the bathroom to change. I left my bra, jeans, and hoodie folded on the windowsill, then looked in the mirror again. Since when did I start looking at myself once every three minutes? James’s shirt was long on my hips but a little short on my thighs.
I went back to the room, and luckily he didn’t even deign to look at me again. I sighed.
James sat on the couch shirtless with the white quilt covering his abs. I couldn’t see his underwear, but I hoped he was wearing it.
“You’ll wake him up if you don’t turn it down.”
“A firing cannon wouldn’t wake him up. Do you think this is the first time I’ve stayed with Will?”
I sat down next to James to see how comfortable the couch was, and noticed my eyelids getting heavy.
I just wanted to lie down and think about the day’s events and everything Will had told me. I still hadn’t fully digested it, and having James a few inches away from me could become a not-insignificant distraction.
“I’m uncomfortable. How are we both gonna sleep on a couch?”
He grumbled then threw the quilt to the side. When he stood up, I was relieved to see that he was wearing a pair of boxers.
“Get off your ass.”
“What?”
“You heard me, White.”
I got up, and he gripped under the couch and pulled it up to reveal a sofa bed. A small bed, but a bed.
“Is that better, princess?”
His blue eyes lingered on my mouth for a few moments then moved down to my bare legs.
No, I definitely wasn’t going to sleep here with him.
James took advantage of my momentary confusion and lay down in the middle of the sofa bed. I had just lost the opportunity to lay claim to my space.
“I’d like to sleep there,” I said calmly, pointing at the mattress.
“Then do so,” he urged brazenly.
“But you’re here!”
“Then find somewhere else. I already told you, the living room couch is super-uncomfortable. It’s perfect for you.”
“Enough, you’re driving me nuts.”
I yanked the quilt, lifted it quickly and got under it, and curled up next to him.
“White?” he yelled.
