Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
She had the show pulled up, and she was scrolling with her finger, a small smile on her face.
That’s when I noticed what she was watching. “Are you looking at spoilers?”
“Yeah,” she replied guiltily. “I like to know if there are any bad things happening. I have to mentally prepare myself.”
I grinned. “Let me go change into some sweatpants. I can think of nothing worse than sitting there under a blanket with jeans on.”
She smiled. “Hurry.”
Eighteen
Don’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Try gasoline and set shit on fire.
—Bernice’s secret thoughts
Bernice
I was dead tired.
It was three in the morning, and we’d literally just binge-watched sixteen episodes.
The only break we’d taken was for Hux to go pick up his cat and some dinner.
We’d eaten pizza while his cat had wandered around the apartment sounding angry that she was cooped up in such a confined space with no way out.
The next episode started to play, and Hux reached for the remote and pressed pause.
“Can’t do it anymore,” he grumbled low.
I nodded against the couch cushion that I’d all but melted into. “Me neither.”
I snuggled deeper into the heat of him, not quite on top of him, but not not on top of him either.
My legs were pulled up to my chest and resting sideways against his torso.
My face was pressed against the inside of his bicep where it rested along the back of the couch cushion behind me.
His legs were stretched out on the ottoman, and the couch sort of pushed me toward him slightly so that most of my left side was touching him.
I was warm and snuggly and had the biggest blanket on me from his bed.
It was like a drug.
A sweet, warm drug that I was about to succumb to.
The last thing I remembered was his hand going to my hair and tangling into the long locks.
When next I woke, it was still dark out, but I had a pressing need to use the bathroom.
And since I’d used the bathroom each time he was out of the room today, seeing as it was wide open for anyone to see, I hesitated to get up.
However, my bladder protested the hesitation, and eventually I got up to use the bathroom anyway.
When I was done, I wondered if I should flush it.
It would be loud and maybe wake him up.
“Just flush.”
My cheeks heated.
He’d heard.
How embarrassing.
At least it was only pee…
I flushed, washed my hands, and walked back to him grumbling, “Whose idea was it to not put a wall in for the bathroom at least?”
“Mine.” He chuckled. “Never planned on having anyone up here.”
That feeling of warmth was back.
Also, for once in my life, I was slightly overheated.
I could count on one hand the times in my life that I’d felt like this.
“Can I borrow your shirt?”
I heard rustling as I scooted closer, and then felt the fabric brush my hand.
I laid it on the couch next to me, still unable to see much of anything, then stripped.
When I was in my panties and nothing else, I slipped his t-shirt on and tried to slip back into the cocoon I’d come from earlier.
When I placed my hand onto the couch to scoot back in, I felt nothing but a hard wall of muscle.
Hux had shifted when he’d taken off the shirt, and now he was stretched lengthwise on the couch with his head resting on the cushion that I’d been using as a pillow.
I pressed my hand to the couch, trying to find a place to go, and ended up hitting bare skin.
His chest.
Well, more accurately, his lower belly that felt as hard as his chest.
“Scoot in here,” he urged, catching my hand to help guide me over the length of his body. “You can sleep in the space between the cushions and me. My leg is asleep the other way.”
“O-okay,” I stuttered out, my heart pounding.
He moved me until I had my back in the cushions and my front to his hard, warm heat.
I placed my head on his bicep and sighed as the scent of pine and warm man invaded my lungs.
His deodorant or bodywash, maybe.
I didn’t see Huxley Hosea wearing aftershave or cologne.
That seemed too “extra” for him.
He shifted us again, and then my head was resting on a pillow with his arm underneath the pillow. My face was still pressed into his neck, but now his chin rested against the top of my head. My leg was also now thrown over his thigh, and his big arm was holding me in place with his hand at the small of my back.
We were literally touching from toes to head.
It was…heaven.
I’d never felt so warm and protected in my life.
I’d had some scary situations that I’d lived in, and not even my brother could make me feel as calm and relaxed as I was in that very moment.