“Oh my God,” I laugh—not helping the whole bladder issue. “LittleJake?Seriously?That issocringey, Jake.”
“What do you want me to name him?Brad?”
“Do you have to nameitat all?”
“He’s my buddy,” he says defensively.
“You’re ridiculous.” I try freeing myself again, but he just holds me to him.
“Why are you trying to escape me, woman? It’s still the middle of the night.”
I’ll admit it’s still dark out, but my bodily functions do not change with the shorter days. “I’ve got to use the bathroom!”
He grunts, “Fine, but I want your butt back in this bed and snuggling into little Jake again in less than three minutes.”
I’m finally free and laugh all the way to the bathroom. I finish my business and wash my hands, wincing at the sight of myself in the mirror. I didn’t take my makeup off last night and I’m a little smudged. I take a hair tie I’d left on the counter and get my hair out of my face so I can wash up a little. By the time I have cleared the green smudges above my eyes and the black ones below, Jake is snoring softly again. I tap my phone screen to see it’s just gone seven and as we don’t have to be at Harry’s until after nine, I’m happy to luxuriate in my present circumstances for a moment or two.
Jake is truly a beautiful man. His dark brown hair is long enough to look mussed and thoroughly sexed; his whiskey brown eyes are closed so his enviously thick lashes fan against his high cheekbones. The dark scruff around his cheeks and jaw is a little longer than usual and in need of a good trim, but it still frames perfectly pink lips with a beautifully formed Cupid’s bow. Then there’s his body. This boy worksout. I know he still plays rugby with Harry on weekends, but I’d say more work goes into the sculptured muscle of his chest and abdomen. The sheet covers him below his hips but I know they cover thick thighs and calves with course dark hair that feels amazing against my skin.
“Are you watching me sleep, Forrest?” he mumbles against his pillow without opening his eyes.
“No,” I lie. “That would be creepy.”
“Very creepy,” he agrees. “Come back to bed, little elf.”
I climb under the duvet and slide my body against his. He finally opens his eyes and looks down at me with a sleepy smile. “Hi,” I whisper.
“Hello.”
I want to know. I have to ask. “Jake?”
“Hm?” He pulls me closer, looking to be settling back in to sleep.
“What happens next?”
He looks down at me in question. “We go back to sleep for an hour and then get ready to join the rest for a jolly Christmas celebration.”
“And after that?” I hate how uncertain my voice sounds.
He smiles wide at me and brushes some hair from my face. “Well, after Christmas, I have to go home as I’m on call with the fire station and working all over New Year.”
“Right,” I say, everything deflating.
“Then,” he continues, cupping my jaw and holding me in position to maintain eye contact. “In the new year, I’m taking you to dinner.”
My heart may have burst.That’s a bit sad, isn’t it?“Really?”
“Oh, yes. I’m talking fancy shit; flowers on the table, low lighting, real silverware. The works. You reckon there’s somewhere like that in your town?”
“Are you asking if there are decent restaurants in London?”
“Mmm,” he hums thoughtfully,
I snort…like a piggy. “Yes, I’m sure the capital has one or two nice places.”
“Well then that settles it, I shall take you out in London.” He trails his fingers up and down my bare arm as I rest my head on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beating of his heart.
“What about Harry?” I ask, tracing circles around his nipple.
