“Next time I try to seduce you while drunk,” she mumbles, voice muffled against my chest, “you have to promise to stop me again.”
“Deal,” I say, laughing quietly. “But just know it’s gonna kill me every time.”
She hums, smiling against my chest. “You like me.”
I dip my head and press a kiss to the top of her hair. “I do.”
“A lot.”
“An embarrassing amount,” I admit with a smile, brushing her hair off her face.
She giggles. Makes my heart pound against my chest. “Good,” she whispers, already half-asleep.
Her eyes flutter shut, and I just lie there in the dark, her body tucked tight against mine, and her breath warm on my skin.
I don’t say anything else. Don’t need to.
Because my chest is full, and my thoughts are loud, and all I can think is some things are worth waiting for.
And I’d wait a lifetime just to meet her all over again.
Maisie stirs beside me sometime after eight, groaning softly as she burrows deeper under the covers, like if she just tries hard enough, she can disappear entirely.
I smile into the pillow. “You alive, Freckles?”
She lets out a longer groan, muffled by the blanket. “Barely.”
I roll onto my side to face her, and immediately my chest squeezes. Hair tangled. Mascara smudged under her eyes. My hoodie falling off one bare shoulder, exposing a strip of soft skin that makes my brain short-circuit. The sight of her first thing in the morning shouldn’t do things to me—but it does. It absolutely, irreversibly does.
Her legs are tangled in the blanket, one knee draped over mine, and I get a perfect view of the curve of her hip and the cotton panties she’s wearing—the ones I saw when I helped her out of her jeans last night.
And now she’s half on top of me, stretching like a sleepy cat. I’m already hard. Because of course I am. I’ve basically beensemi-hard since she got into my bed and curled into me last night.
Not my fault. I’m only human.
I shift carefully, trying not to wake her, but her lashes flutter open. Big and blue and still a little puffy from sleep.
She squints up at me, her expression adorably groggy. “Did I try to have sex with you last night?”
I could be a gentleman and lie, pretend none of it happened. But… “You did,” I say with a chuckle.
She groans and hides her face in my bare chest. “Kill me. Please. Right now.”
I laugh, dragging a hand down her back. “You also called me obnoxiously handsome and said I smelled like heaven. So you know. Bonus points.”
“I hate myself.”
“I don’t.” I tilt her chin up, force her to meet my gaze. “I loved every second of it.”
Her blush spreads instantly—flaming red across her cheeks, down her throat. I swear I canseethe heat racing across her skin.
She looks away. “I just… I was nervous. I didn’t want you to change your mind.”
I sit up slowly, bracing my weight on one elbow so I can reach her, sliding a hand into her hair. My palm cups the back of her neck. “Maisie, baby. I couldn’t stop wanting you if I tried.”
Her lips part. Her eyes flick to my mouth for a beat, then back up to mine, and I swear I feel it all the way down my spine. Her gaze drops again—this time lower. She bites her lip. Her hand drifts across my chest, tentative and slow. Her fingers brush over my skin, tracing along the top of my abs, and I almost forget how to breathe.
She blushes, and I can tell she’s holding back something.
