We wake spooning, legs entwined, as close as two humans can be without being inside each other. At first, I’m not sure why my body is so warm and relaxed. Or why the air I’m breathing carries a distinctly feminine scent. AJocelynscent.
Then something moves against me, and I become acutely aware of the slide of female skin across mine.
Wait.
Oh, god.
We jerk away from each other at the same time, darting to opposite sides of the bed. I squint at her, still trying to adjust to the morning light.
Wild-eyed, she gestures toward my lap. “You have a situation.”
I glance down at myself and stare at the shameless tent beneath the blankets. Well, okay, then. I lift my knees to hide it. “Did you really think I’m some mystical man who doesn’t get morning wood? This is why I pointed out we shouldn’t sleep in the same bed.”
She shoves the covers to the end of the bed. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to get stabbed by... it.”
This I find hard to believe. “To be fair to me, you technically came to my house with the sole purpose of getting stabbed byit.”
“Ugh.” She cringes. “Stabbedis such a violent word.”
I take a slow breath. “You used it first.”
We stare at each other. And we stare some more.
“Fine,” she says. “You were right. We shouldn’t have slept in the same bed. Are you happy?”
“And we won’t be making that mistake again,” I say, nodding my head to encourage her to agree.
“Duh. I’m not looking to get injured.”
“Huh?”
She waves both hands at mysituationagain. “How do you even use that thing? It has its own zip code.”
Um.
Is she serious right now?
Heat rises from my neck into my face.
“Is this where you get that big-dick energy?”
A laugh spills out of my mouth. “Shut up.”
“Does it have special accessories?” She perks up. “Like Batman’s utility belt. What do you call the bat boomerang things? Cock-erangs?”
I let my face drop into my hands, still laughing. “I’m sure I’m being insulted, but I’m not sure how.”
“You could deep throat a girl from below.”
“Oh, my god.” I throw a pillow at her. “You’re purposely making this more cringe, aren’t you?” When I peek up at her, she’s grinning madly.
“Yeah,” she says. “Are you dead from embarrassment yet?”
“Yes. Dead. I really hate you sometimes.”
Her grin warms, and like magic, the awkwardness clears.“I know.” She slides off the bed. A gasp rips through her chest as soon as her foot touches the floor. She falls back onto the mattress. “Fuck!”
I crawl closer. “What is it?”
