Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.
What felt like minutes soon turned into hours.
I had plopped myself on the floor, with my back against the wall, and was about halfway through the beautiful, infuriating, confusing story of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet when a loud knock on my bedroom door made me jump.
“Come in,” I called, my voice shaking with surprise.
My door opened to reveal Trey, still as handsome as ever, which made me fume. He couldn’t act the way he had and be that pretty—it wasn’t fair.
“Hey, sorry to bother you. I saw your light was still on and wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright.”
I looked at the digital alarm clock on my desk. It was already past midnight. “I didn’t realize how late it was.” I looked back at Trey, who studied me in the doorway. “What’re you still doing up?”
When he first got back from school, he’d been wearing a royal blue shirt with his school’s name painted across the back. He wore jeans and sneakers, but now he was in black shorts and a gray t-shirt that clung to his built upper body in all the right ways.
I was shamelessly—murderously—gawking at him as he stepped further into my room.
“I couldn’t sleep after how dinner went,” he admitted, his head bowing as he looked at me through loweredlashes.
Nodding, I used the wall to get to my feet, my joints stiff from sitting on the floor for so long.
Trey met me at the bed and offered his hand to help lower me to the mattress. I accepted his help but paused before settling onto the pink quilted spread. I looked up at him, still astonished by his height compared to mine, as I stood level to his broad chest.
“How about you sit with me, and we catch up?” I offered as a truce and gestured to the bed.
He accepted with a smile, and we both fell into the pillows. The two of us sat shoulder to shoulder. I grabbed a pillow from my side and hugged it on my lap while Trey folded his arms over his front.
“May, I owe you an apology,” he started.
I scooted sideways so I could better face him as he spoke because, yes, he did owe me an apology.
“I let my fear overwhelm me today. I’m happy to see you walking and doing well—you have no idea. But I let my fear of you getting hurt cloud that, and I’m sorry.”
I placed a forgiving hand on his knee, giving him a gentle grin. “Damn right you should be sorry. Do you know how excited I was to show you how far I’ve come?” I playfully swatted at his muscled shoulder, feigning anger as I folded my arms and turned away from him.
He snickered behind me, and I felt the mattress move as he adjusted. “What do I have to do to make it up to you, May?” He was much closer now; his breathing tickled the back of my neck.
My breath hitched as I forced myself to keep my chin high and give a half shrug. “I don’t know, handsome. I fear this might be the end of our friendship.”
I felt his fingers at my sides, his mouth pressed up close to my ear. “I’m afraid that just won’t work for me.”
Before I could respond, Trey had me hauled up in his lap, attacking the sensitive areas of my sides, making mesqueal. I writhed and squirmed in his hold, screeching and laughing uncontrollably.
He pinned my arms down with one of his hands, then slapped the other hand over my mouth as he hushed me through his own laughter. “Hush, May. Mom’s asleep and has work tomorrow. You’ll wake her if you keep squawking like that.”
I slipped one of my hands out of his grasp and pulled my mouth free of the muzzle. “Stop the torture and I’ll stop my screaming,” I whisper-shouted up at him.
His deep laugh reverberated through me. “I’ll stop as soon as you say you forgive me and that we’re still friends.” He leaned into me, still holding me up on his lap.
“Hmm I don’t know…” I hummed but his evil fingers dug into me again, sending me wriggling. “Okay, okay, okay, I forgive you!”
Trey didn’t fully press back into me, but his fingertips teasingly danced at my hips.
“And?” he drawled.
I shook my head. “And we’re best friends. Now get your hands off me, you sadist.” Sitting up, I rolled back onto the bed, leaving my legs draped across his lap. Trey vibrated with amusement as he rested his hands on my knees.
“You know,” I started, catching my breath. “You and my physical therapist would get along well.”
