When I’ve finally exhausted myself, I turn and jog back toEllie and Will’s. Libby is asleep as I quietly enter, already scooted to the center of the bed. I want to slip into bed next to her and pull her into my arms, reassure myself that she’s completely safe. That I will always be able to keep her safe.
Instead, I lock our door, take a shower, and fall asleep on the couch.
CHAPTER 22
LIBBY
When I wake up the next morning, I’m not pressed into Jordan’s back, which is a good thing. After what he told me last night, I have to be careful about accidentally sleep-cuddling again. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. But when I open my eyes, the bed is empty. I sit up, my heart rate skyrocketing. How could I fall asleep and not even make sure he got home safely last night? What if he hurt himself and didn’t come back last night? What if he did get mugged or something? That’s unlikely in Ellie’s upscale, gated neighborhood, but it doesn’t stop me from picturing a gang of thugs attacking him.
My worries are cut short when I catch sight of him sprawled across the couch in our room. The sight is ridiculous. His legs are hanging off one arm of the couch. One of his arms is dangling off the side, the other curled up in his chest, and it can’t be comfortable at all.
“Jordan Atkinson, what are you doing?”
He startles awake. I should feel bad. He can’t have gotten a good night’s rest, cramped on the couch like that. It’s probably guilt talking. He told me he had feelings for me, and despite him being amazing, I told him I don’t have feelings for him.
Well, that Ican’thave feelings for him.
There are definitely feelings, but there’s nothing I can do with them.
“Um, sleeping?” he says blearily.
I slap my hands on the puffy blankets in front of me. “If anyone is going to sleep on the couch because of last night, it will be me. You do not fit. New rule,” I add, because Jordan is good at following rules. Mostly. I think sometimes his flirting gene is so ingrained he doesn’t even know when he’s doing it.
“Nope,” he says, surprising me. He sits up, rubbing his face and then running his hands through his hair.
He is sohotwhen he first wakes up, and that’s really not fair. The way his hair sticks up all over the place is adorable in a sexy way, if that’s possible. His eyes are lidded as he stares at me, and I have to swallow. I can so easily picture waking up next to him and having him stare at me with those sleep-glazed eyes.
Is this room hot, or is it just me?
Jordan, would you be interested in a platonic spouses with benefits situation?
I. Am. The. Worst.
“My wife will not be sleeping on the couch when there’s a perfectly good bed,” he says. Then he tilts his head at me in a way I can only describe as sassy and adds, “New rule.”
My wife.
I’m dead.
I never thought such a simple phrase would make heat erupt in my chest like it does. Would make me want to tell Jordan I don’t care about anything I said last night. Would drive me to the point that I have to grip the blanket to keep from leaping across the room, planting myself in his lap, and kissing him until I forget everything else.
I tuck a strand of wayward hair behind my ear and grasp for my most professional voice so as not to give away the fact that I can’t stop thinking about making out with him. “Well, I guess I’d better make some calls and see if we can get into our apartment early, because we seem to be at an impasse.”
Jordan quirks an eyebrow at me.
This man is sexy without even trying.
“You want the shower first?” he asks dryly.
“You go ahead.” My voice comes out a little high and breathy.
He shakes his head. “Ladies first, please.”
“Fine,” I say, sweeping the blankets off my legs and swinging them off the bed. I enjoy the way Jordan’s gaze snaps right to them, and then away.
Yeah, I really am the worst.
“I’ll take the first shower,” I reply. “As long as you sleep in the bed while I’m in there,husband.” And I’m rewarded by his eyes darkening on me at the word.
