And lands directly on my raging boner.
Oh no.
Her hand retracts so fast it’s like I was made of fire. She flinches back like she’s touched an electric fence, sitting upright with wide eyes, her sleep-mussed hair all over the place and her cheeks flaming red in the dim light of the TV screen.
I open one eye, the rest of me still pretending to be asleep like maybe if I don’t move, we can both pretend that did not just happen.
Spoiler: We can’t.
“Oh my god,” she whispers.
I am…idiotically still playing dead. Still hoping for a miracle.
She clears her throat. “You awake?”
Nope. Never been less awake in my life.
“You have… a situation,” she says carefully, like she’s narrating a wildlife documentary.
I groan into the pillow behind me. “You touched it, Greer.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“You touched it.”
“I thought it was—” she cuts herself off. “I don’t know what I thought it was! A knee?”
“A knee?”
“Look, I was half-asleep and you were just—there and warm and I didn’t mean to grope your…” She makes a vague, mortified gesture in the air. “I’m going to die. I’m literally going to self-combust right here.”
I finally sit up, pushing a hand through my hair, trying to keep my voice light even as my entire soul tries to crawl under the couch. “Well… I guess we’re even now.”
She narrows her eyes. “Even?”
“You’ve mocked my fashion sense, insulted my intelligence, refused to let me drive you home most days, and now you’ve copped a feel. I think that’s fair.”
“Oh my god,” she mutters again, dragging a throw pillow over her face.
I watch her for a second—face flushed, wrapped in that ridiculous yellow blanket, hair sticking up in half a dozen directions—and despite everything, I grin.
“Look, you’ve felt it before, Greer,” I remind her casually.
Her eyes snap to mine. “Not properly!” she almost hisses.
I sigh dramatically. “I know. Many women are rendered speechless after I rock their world. There’s usually some crying. Some dramatic declarations. Occasionally fainting even, it’s smart to have a medic nearby.”
“Shut up!” she cries, but I can hear the laugh in her voice now.
I lean into her space just enough to make her squirm and gently nudge her back into the couch cushions. She giggles and shoves at my chest, weakly.
“I’m trapped!” she announces. “The most arrogant, annoying man on campus has me pinned! Please, someone call security!”
I raise a brow. “Delilah? Are you—joking? Is this… are you having fun right now?”
She grins up at me, cheeks pink, breath a little uneven. “I think I’m delirious.”
I don’t miss the way her gaze flicks down. Right to the problem stillverymuch happening in my sweatpants. Her eyes widen and she bites her lip.
