I laugh. “There won’t be a next one.”
“What if I throw in some bacon on the side?”
“Why are you always trying to feed me?”
"Because it’s the one thing you let me do for you." He slides a hand under his pillow.
My heart skips as I tighten my grip on the comforter. Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of everything. The heady scent of his cologne trapped in the fabric of the sheets, how cute his tired voice is, how close he is to me.
He clears his throat. “So, rain check on omelets and bacon?”
I muster my typical snark, but even I can tell it lacks bite this time. “If I agree, will you let me sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Omelets and bacon it is.”
A silence spans between us before he finally speaks again. “Well, good night, Lennie-Pie.”
“Gross. Don’t call me that.” I reach out, giving his bare chest a push, but even in the darkness, he stops the strike. My hand is locked in his for a long moment before I finally pull it away, tucking it under the cool side of my pillow. “Good night, Decker.”
He doesn’t roll away, but instead stays exactly where he is, so close that his heat radiates under the blanket and warms me too. As his breathing settles, so does mine, and soon the exhaustion overwhelms me until I can’t fight it any longer. That seems to be the theme of the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LENA
Decker was wrong.My alarm doesn’t wake him up when it pings at 5:00 a.m., but it does bring a groggy Joss popping up in no time flat.
“Who is it?” she asks in a sleepy haze.
I stifle a snicker as I inch away from Decker—who has shoved down the covers, leaving his perfect, suntanned physique on full display. It makes me wonder what he was up to all summer. Sure, there’s a bit of a farmer’s tan striping his biceps from practices, but his chest is smooth and taut, and I want to bury my face in it. The thought is startling, and I spring from the bed before I can do anything ridiculous. Joss rubs her eyes, black mascara streaking down her face. Quickly, I change back into my clothes from the day before, but I pull Decker’s shirt over them and tuck it into my skirt, just in case we run into someone in the halls like last night. The early hour should negate that chance, but as we witnessed last night, the paparazzi are relentless. Princess watches as we tiptoe down the hall and out of the apartment. In no time, we’re out of his building and in the private garage, standing in front of Gustav and our ride.
Gustav hands me a bag before he ducks into the front passenger seat, and I change yet again as we embark toward my fitting appointment.
Joss leans over an AC vent, letting the cold air blast her in the face. “Sorry about your shoes.”
“I’ll order new ones.” I pull on a clean pair of boots as she grumbles something indecipherable. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Maybe.” She sighs. “You know, that’s not exactly how I pictured my first sleepover at an NFL player’s place.”
“Oh? And what were you expecting?”
“For starters, I didn’t think I’d be a third wheel.” She leans back, pressing her fingers to her temples. “How did you find one that’s sonice?”
“One of what?”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be falling apart here. Stay with me.A pro athlete.How did you find one that’s so nice?”
“How many have you met? All of Decker’s friends seem pretty nice. Cole was nice.”
She grumbles again and pops up to face me. “Coleisnice. Maybe too nice. Don’t know if I trust it. And I’ve met a ton of athletes at photo shoots. Kind of jerks. Dismissive, most of them.”
“Well, Decker’s different, I guess.”
“You guess? I sure hope you’ve noticed he’s different, otherwise you might as well dump him now so I can swoop in.” The vehicle hits a bump, and Joss doubles over, stuffing her head between her knees. “I wish I was still passed out on his chaise.”
I wish I were still tucked into his bed.
