Praying it’s him who committed the incursion, I carefully bend my knee and lift my thigh. My big toe grazes the edge of the bed, and hope withers faster than a hothouse orchid left out in winter. A hand over my mouth, I listen to Rhys’s breathing. It’s steady, and he isn’t moving at all—definitely dead to the world.
I pretend to adjust my position, slowly sliding backward. My thigh shakes with the effort to be careful, then grazes something hard and hot. Is that—?
No,don’t think about his thingy!
My face burns as I finally get clear and roll away from him in slow motion. I carefully drop my legs over my edge of the bed, then stand and turn around to see if he’s awake.Nope.Not moving. I exhale slowly. I’m safe.
I take a step back. My toes brush against cool pillows.There they are. It was definitely me.
I start to smack my forehead, then stop, lest the noise wake him up. Carefully I gather all the pillows using the dim night light and place them back on the bed. My phone screen says it’s five. Early, but notthatearly. I’ll take the bathroom first and shower. Rhys will never know.
“You can squeeze in half an hour more of snoozing.”
I jump at the raspy voice and place a hand over my racing heart. “Crap.”
“Why are you sneaking around?”
“Iwasn’t!” I hiss like a cat whose tail got stepped on. “I wasgetting up.”
“Sneakily. And why are you throwing pillows on the bed?”
“Is that what woke you up?” Now I regret trying to restore the border. I should’ve just showered, then played dumb if he asked me about them.
“No. I woke up when you started to knead my chest.” His voice holds a hint of smirk and something else that makes me want to shove my hands into my hair and scream in shame and self-directed frustration.
Reining in the impulse, I settle for a dignified denial. “I did no such thing.”
“Taking advantage after a successful invasion.”
I choke. “I didn’tinvade.”
“Ripped out the pillow wall between us and practically jumped on top of me, while I was unaware, innocently sleeping.” He’s entirely too droll.
“You should’ve said something,” I say between clenched teeth.
“I would’ve if you’d given me a chance.”
“What are you saying?”Did I kiss him in my sleep or something?
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head, then realize he can’t really see me in the dark. “No.”
He makes a thoughtful noise, and I have no idea what’s going on in his head. “Huh. Hard to believe, given how you rubbed your leg all over my morning wood—”
“Don’tsaythat, you pervert!”
“Me? A pervert? Max, you were the rubberI was the rubbee. My reaction was simple biology. I was asleep, not dead.”
“You—you—” I can’t think of anything clever to say.
Why am I trying to engage when I haven’t had coffee?Clearly, the best course of action is a strategic retreat.
I spin around and go to the bathroom with my toiletries and a change of clothes. Just how long has he really been awake? Whydidn’t he say something earlier? Even if I tried to kiss him, he could’ve avoided that by turning his head! His neck isn’t broken. And he’s much bigger and stronger.
I brush my teeth with vicious vigor, like it’s all my teeth’s fault that I might’ve kissed Rhys. Yes, he’s hot as hell, but he’s my boss andI have a boyfriend. What wouldn’t I give to remember what happened last night!
Frustrated and irritated with myself, I make the water extra hot for my shower, as though that will help wash away my shame. I’m not the superstitious type, but the series of unfortunate mishaps makes me wonder if Tokyo and I have some kind of cursed relationship. Maybe I should check if Mercury’s in retrograde or something. Jeffrey swears by that stuff.
