Pushing the covers up, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.
I stood up and stepped toward my bedroom door and stopped.
“Am I actually considering going into his room and telling him I don’t want his football?”
Yes, that’s why you’re standing up.
“Is he going to know what I mean when I say football?”
No, probably not. You should tell him firmly that kissing is off the table.
“Do I want kissing to be off the table?”
Do you want me to answer that honestly?
Ugh. I couldn’t lie about it. Apparently, I’d now lost the ability to be in denial about anything.
Denial was a very useful tool when used effectively.
“He came into my room. Twice. Going to his room is simply a question of turnabout is fair play.”
I’m not entirely certain I even knew specifically whatturnabout is fair playmeant, I just knew it motivated me enough to open my door and sneak down the hallway to Ethan’s old room. I stood outside the door and pressed my ear against it.
If Paul was sleeping, I wasn’t going to wake him up to tell him I didn’t want his football. What if he was a quiet sleeper though? I mean, sure, he looked like a guy who would snore. Big chest, burly beard.
I didn’t think there was any physical correlation between beards and snoring, but somehow it seemed logical.
What if he slept like Snow White instead?
There was only way to know for sure. I turned the knob on the door and listened to it creak as I turned it. I should probably get some lubricant for that.
I opened the door just a crack, enough so I could peek in. It was dark and there was that ever-present smell of…guy. Same as when my brothers used to live here. I couldn’t put a name on all of the smells, sweat, cologne, soap, testosterone. I just knew it blended into the aroma I’d always referred to as guy-smell.
This guy-smell came with a hint of pine needles, which made my body tingle a bit.
“Are you just going to stand there watching me sleep the whole night, or are you going to come inside?”
His low voice startled me so much I jumped and squeaked like a girl.
When my heart stopped racing, I stared down at the other end of the hallway to see if I might have woken up my dad, but I knew from previous experience he slept like the dead.
A total snorer.
I stepped inside the room and shut the door behind me.
“Were you awake the entire time?” I asked him.
There was enough moonlight coming through the window that I could see he was lying on the bed, his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
“Yep. Couldn’t sleep.”
“I just wanted to tell you, I don’t need your football.”
He turned his head in my direction. I could see his eyes now, which were pinned on me.
“You don’t, huh?”
“No. I’ve got big life things happening right now, so you teasing me with a kiss and then walking away is the last thing I need on my plate.”
