Page 60 of Paper Roses

He waves at my crotch. “I can’t get one no matter what I do. I’m too thin. You have a lovely body.”

I count down from ten to calm my cock again. It’s been up and down more times tonight than a navy flagpole.

“Are you okay on that side?” he asks.

“What?” I say, blinking at the change of subject.

Artie looks at me patiently. “Are you okay with that side of the bed? I always sleep on the left.”

My side is closest to the door, and I nod. “Yes, it’s fine.”

The room is chilly, and I dive under the covers gratefully. The sheets are soft and warm and smell of cedar and his skin. My cock stiffens again, and I resign myself to spending a long, wakeful night.

“Okay?” he asks.

I pull the covers to my neck, feeling like a maiden aunt. “Yes,” I say. My voice is higher than usual, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I really liked seeing your family photos.”

I turn my head on the pillow to find him staring contemplatively at the ceiling. “Pardon?”

His sleepy smile makes my heart clench. He turns on his side, pillowing his head on his arm. His hair flops over his forehead, and his eyes are night-time soft. It feels so intimate to lie like this together.

“Your mum’s photos were lovely. I saw loads of you as a little boy. There was the sweetest one of you in the bath.”

I groan. “Pleasenevermention that at work.”

His laughter is as warm as the sheets around us, and I sink more deeply into them, finally relaxing.

“Maybe I won’t,” he says, playfully patting my hand and skimming his fingers down my arm. It leaves trails of fire, and I swallow hard.

“You’re very close to Adam, aren’t you?”

I lie on my side to face him. The sheets wrap around my waist, and I notice his glance slide over my chest. “I am. He’s incredibly irritating, but he’s always been my best friend.”

“That’s nice. I’m glad you had that. What’s your favourite childhood memory of him?”

I think back. “He used to tag along with me everywhere, and my mum insisted that I had to include him. Whenever I played on the Xbox, I’d switch his controller off. He’d play for ages, and I only had to throw in a few well-dones to keep the peace. Now I’m wondering if I could use that method in some way with Rafferty.” I smile at his laughter. “Why did you want to know that?”

He shrugs. “I was an only child. Even when Daisy came along, she still spent a lot of time with her dad.”

“Were you lonely?”

He wrinkles his nose, which is far cuter than I’d like to admit. “Maybe, but I had my books. You’re never lonely when you have a book world to lose yourself in.”

“I’m a reader, too,” I say, delighted. “What was your favourite book as a child?”

“Definitely ‘Voyage of the Dawn Treader’ by CS Lewis. Prince Caspian was very daring and take-charge in that one, although nobody ever told me how to pronounce new words, so I went around for a long while saying things were very pictureskew.”

I start to laugh, and he grins at me. Our gazes hold for a moment, the ghost of the smile still in his eyes, and I hold my breath. The space between us feels impossibly small and the heat of his body warms the bed. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when he leans over and clicks the lamp.

The room falls into darkness, and I jump when his hand finds mine. He squeezes it. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispers.

“For what?” I ask hoarsely. Is he thanking me for the kiss earlier?

“For the quickstep.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think we even got to that, and it was more of a slow fumble. You’ll certainly never get a ten from Shirley.”

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