"Those theatrics seemed unnecessary," he says, carefully rolling onto the bed with me as he holds his bandaged hand in the air.
"We got to the bed," I say. "That's the important thing."
His eyes darken with concern as he looks down at me.
"Tell me why you looked sad just now."
He'll think I'm even loopier if I tell him the real reason. I'll sound like I've got a pathetic crush on him, like Stephanie the P.A. I try to look relaxed, although I'm not feeling that way with Seth so close that I can feel the heat from his body.
"I was just thinking about what a mess my apartment will be when I get home. My roommate is growing a jungle that's taken over the entire place, apparently."
"You mean she's a slob?" he asks.
"No, I mean a literal jungle. She's a plant junkie. Seriously, there's a fern living in my shower now. Apparently, it needs the humidity."
"I'd be annoying, too," he says, "As a roommate, I mean."
"Yeah, you'd probably iron my underwear and label everything in my closet," I say with a sigh.
"I'd yell at you for eating in bed," he adds. "I hate sleeping in crumbs."
"Oh, so we'd be roommates who share a bed?" I ask slyly. "Is that what roommates do?"
"In our case, maybe. After what happened in the barn, I'm just guessing that's where we'd end up."
The barn. The most passionate kiss of my life, if I'm being honest. No one has ever kissed me like that before.
My voice comes out a bit strangled when I say, "Probably a good guess."
His eyes are sliding over me, my lips, my neck, my breasts. He places one hand on my stomach and the heat from it nearly burns me through my clothing. As he leans down toward me, I don't close my eyes. I don't want to miss a second of this.
"I don't want to be your roommate," he whispers, and kisses me gently on the lips.
"No?" I whisper back.
"I want to be more than that."
His hand slips under my shirt, and glides across the skin of my torso.
"More?" I say. "Show me."
Seth responds to my challenge by shifting onto his back and rolling me on top of him, a move that's complicated by his injured hand. I love how sturdy and strong he feels underneath me.
"I'm not going to crush you?" I ask, letting my full weight release on top of him.
"Not possible," he says, sounding delighted.
He traces one hand up the side of my thigh, over my backside and under my t-shirt. As his fingers draw lazy circles on my bare skin, I break out in goose bumps. God help me if we're ever completely naked, skin on skin. I'm pretty sure I'll fall to pieces.
I bend my head down and give him a few gentle kisses on the mouth, my lips opening slightly with the promise of more. Then I pull away because I like teasing him. His head comes up off the pillow just an inch when I move away from him, like he wasn't ready to part with my mouth.
"The other day when you were wearing that black bikini," he says, his voice sounding pained. "That was unfair."
"You liked that?" I kiss his neck and his scruffy chin tickles my cheeks. "Or you hated it?"
I continue kissing his neck, then move to his jawline. When I get close to his mouth, I feel him smile.
"I hated that I liked it so much."
