Laughter. Low and familiar.
“Hayes? Is that you?”
More laughter.
Then…snoring?
I scramble to my feet, dragging half the comforter with me. Panic spikes as my mind spins through every worst-case scenario.
Did I somehow become an unconscious bystander in a tryst between Hayes and one of his countless female admirers and end up in the middle of a threesome?
Then, an even more alarming thought.
Please, please, please don’t let it be Amber.
If I’ve just spent the night in the same bed as Hayes and my sister, I will literally launch myself right out of his second-story window.
“Who’s in here?” I grit out.
“Relax, Sleeping Beauty. It’s just us… and the dog.”
My eyes adjust to the dark—and there he is. Hayes, smirking on the far side of the bed. He pulls back the covers to reveal the dog underneath, fast asleep, curled up like a baby and tucked snugly into Hayes’s side.
Correction.
Tucked snugly into Hayes’s shirtless, glorious, carved-from-freaking-marble side.
I swallow hard, watching as his chest rises in slow rhythm. Each breath traces the hard lines of his abs and the sharp, sinful V of muscle that disappears intolow-slung pajama bottoms. My thoughts short-circuit and it takes everything in me to drag my gaze away.
“Uh… what am I doing in your bed?” I ask, blinking through my temporary, lust-induced haze. “Wait—what are you doing here?”
“Where else would I be? It’smyroom, genius.” He chuckles, wrapping warm fingers around my wrist, and tugging—effortless, commanding—until I’m pulled right back down into the bed again. “Now shut up and go back to sleep.”
His leg brushes mine under the covers and heat skims up my thigh. I freeze, nerves sparking to life, every cell in my body on high alert.
What the hell am I doing sleeping in my best friend’s bed?
Should I leave?
I should leave, right?
But his sheets are so warm. His pillows so damn soft. And he smells so freaking good, like clean skin and the faintest hint of that addictive cedar scent I swear is designed to ruin me…
I let myself sink deeper into the mattress. We’re so close I can feel the heat of his body, his presence melting the last of my resistance. It’s late, I’m still drunk, and I’m so, so tired.
“Right… your room…” I mumble, settling into the silken bedding. “It’s just—weren’t you with Amber earlier? I thought I saw you guys heading upstairs.”
He rolls over to face the wall.
“She wanted to use the bathroom so I let her. Then I kicked her out and crashed,” he says, his voicemuffled in the pillow. “Any other burning questions, Nancy Drew? Or can I go back to sleep now?”
Relief crashes over me like a wave. I exhale all at once, the tension draining from my limbs. I can’t believe it. Nothing happened with my sister.
Or with anyone else tonight, from the look of things.
It’s surprising, to say the least. Hayes doesn’t exactly go to bed alone after these parties, and Amber’s not the only one who’s been circling.
Not that he’s a player or anything.
