I hold my breath. This kindness and openness is alarming.
He looks over at me. “Did I say that out loud just now?”
“Nope. You’re asleep.”
“I’m not.”
I sigh and shift around. “I like being with you too.”
He nuzzles his face against my belly and wraps his arm around my waist.
My throat is starting to constrict. My heart is racing, and not in the good way. He is being so sweet, it’s stupid that it makes me nervous and uncomfortable, but it does.
I shouldn’t read anything into this. For all I know, he’s so loopy right now he doesn’t realize that it’s me here with him and not his ex-girlfriend. There is still a really good chance that he’ll go back to her, the second she shows any interest.
Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask.
“Hey, Matt? Have you been in touch with Vanessa?”
He’ll never remember that I asked.
He furrows his brow. “No. Don’t say her name.” He covers my mouth with his fingers. “I don’t like you saying her name.”
“Why?”
“Because. No mixing feelings, remember?”
“Okay. You need to stay on your back so you can raise your foot up.”
“Mmmm no.” He nuzzles me. “What do you smell like?”
“What?”
“You always smell good. Vanilla. Lavender. Not like a candle. Like it’s coming off your skin.” His face is now pressed against my neck. He inhales loudly then exhales with a resounding “aaaahhhhhh!” His arms are wrapped tight around my waist, pulling me into him. “What’s the other thing?”
“What other thing?”
“The smell?”
“Amber and coconut.”
“Whaaaaaaat?” He buries his face in my chest. “Soooo goooood.” His voice is still deep and masculine, but he’s being so boyish right now, it actually hurts my heart. “Nobody else smells like you.”
“I made it myself. When I was at my parents’ place. My mom makes perfume oils and candles.”
He groans. I can feel his erection against my thigh, but I’m pretty sure he’d try to hump a body pillow right now, and I am not about to let this go any further. His fingers gently caress my nipple, over my top. All I’m thinking about is that I don’t know if he meant “No I haven’t been in touch with Vanessa” or “No don’t say her name.” But I guess I don’t really care. Because Matt McGovern is caressing my nipple over my top. My eyes close and my head drops back, just as his hand falls away and his head hits the pillow.
I watch him sleep, studying and memorizing his face. I would die of embarrassment if he ever saw the work in my current sketchbook. He’d be so creeped out. It’s all quite abstract, as much of my work is. Most people wouldn’t recognize him or me. But I know it’s us.
It feels like I’m moving into some new phase of my artistic development, and that excites me. I’ve always looked through Sebastian’s extensive art book collection during my breaks, and lately I’ve been browsing the erotic works of Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, and Toulouse-Lautrec. Even if he goes back to his girlfriend tomorrow, the impact that Matt McGovern has had on my life in this relatively short period of time has been huge.
All because of what he does to me in bed.
Okay, that might not be the whole truth.
Obviously, he brought Daisy into my life too. And whatever it is that he does to me in bed, it started long before we got here. But we’re here, and I’m grateful.
I lean down to kiss him on his forehead. He doesn’t move at all. He’s out like a light, expressionless as always, but I see so much more than a handsome face when I look at him now. Despite how cozy it is in bed with him, this is outside my comfort zone. I am determined to stay here as long as possible, while trying not to get lost.
