I close my eyes, willing sleep to come. Tomorrow is day two of our bizarre living arrangement. Tomorrow, I'll figure out how to be just Wren's roommate, just the father of her child, nothing more.
Yeah, right.
Even in my own head, I don't sound convinced.
She's naked in my bed again. Naked and pink.
Not just her hair, but her skin where I've touched her, marked her. Dream-Wren looks up at me, intense gray eyes gone soft, and Christ, I want to drown in her. My hands grip her hips, feeling her skin hot under my palms, but every time I try to pull her closer, she slips away like smoke.
I'm yanked from sleep by a crash from the kitchen, followed by muffled cursing. My body reacts before my brain fully engages, muscles tensing as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The red numbers on my alarm clock read one thirteen a.m.
There’s another clatter and then what sounds like a cabinet door slamming shut.
I grab the baseball bat I keep beside my bed and pad silently down the hallway. The light from the refrigerator casts long shadows across the kitchen floor. A small figure is silhouetted against it, head buried deep in the freezer compartment.
"Did you find what you’re looking for?" I ask, lowering the bat.
Wren yelps, jerking upright so fast she smacks her head. "Fuck me!" She clutches the back of her head, spinning to face me. Her eyes do a slow-drag up my abs and chest before finally landing on my face. If I flex a little along the way, sue me. "What the hell, Kasen? Were you planning to beat me to death with that?"
"The thought crossed my mind." I set the bat against the wall, trying not to notice how the oversized t-shirt she's wearing barely skims the tops of her thighs. It's one of mine—black with the Timber Brewing logo faded from too many washes.
When did she grab that?
And why does seeing her in it with her messy pink hair like she just got fucked make my dick sit up and pay attention? "You were making a fuck ton of noise and I thought someone broke in.”
"Well, I didn’t." She rubs her head, wincing. "I'm just..." she trails off, suddenly looking embarrassed.
"Just what?"
She sighs, shoulders slumping. "I need caramel ice cream. With potato chips. Crushed up and sprinkled on top." Her expression dares me to laugh at her. "I know it sounds disgusting, but I need it right now or I might actually die."
"Ah." Understanding dawns. "The cravings have hit, huh?’
She nods miserably. “I woke up, and it was all I could think about. But all you have is that mint chip and cookie dough from earlier.” She gags and I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. “No caramel." She sounds personally offended by this oversight.
I scratch the back of my neck, trying to focus on her face and not the long expanse of bare leg she’s showing. Seriously, they look like they go on for miles. "Pretty sure there's a twenty-four-hour store about fifteen minutes from here."
Her eyes widen, a flash of hope quickly replaced by wariness. "It's the middle of the night. I'm not asking you to?—"
"I know you're not asking." I'm already turning toward my room to grab a shirt and my shoes. "Let me grab my keys."
"Kasen, wait." Her voice stops me. When I look back, she's biting her lower lip, that tough exterior cracked just enough to let a tiny bit of vulnerability peek through. It’s goddamn captivating. "You don't have to do this."
"I know I don't have to." I shrug like it's no big deal, like I'm not already calculating the fastest route to the store. "But my kid apparently wants caramel ice cream with potato chips, and who am I to argue with that?"
A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Your kid has weird taste."
"He gets that from you." I'm rewarded with that little laugh of hers, the genuine one I’ve only heard a couple of times.
Back in my room, I tug on a t-shirt and a pair of joggers, then grab my wallet and keys. When I return to the kitchen, Wren has moved to perch on one of the barstools, her legs swinging under her. She looks hot as fuck and for a second, I wish she’d woken up with a different craving and it was me she was straddling right now instead of that stool.
"Anything else you need while I'm out? Pickles?"
She rolls her eyes. "Just the ice cream and chips. Regular, not ridged. The ridged ones are too thick."
"Got it. Regular chips, caramel ice cream. Stay put." I grab my jacket from the hook by the door.
"Hey, Kasen?" Her voice is soft, almost hesitant. Not a tone I'm used to hearing from her.
