Page 71 of #Starstruck

He muttered things that sounded suspiciously like swear words. “I should have told him to get you a burlap sack.”

He had a problem with this ridiculous thing? Seriously? He was the one sporting abs of steel that probably set off metal detectors in airports.

Chase was still complaining. “I told him to get the least sexy thing he could find.”

Holding out my arms, I said, “Mission accomplished.”

“No, not mission accomplished. This is worse.”

“What? Why?”

“Because now that I can’t see anything, I’m imagining it all instead.”

I thought about teasing him, suggesting I could take it off, but things felt edgy enough already, and I didn’t want to push him too far. “I could sleep in the guest room.”

“No.” He crossed over to me and held my hands. “No. I want you here with me.”

“This is where I want to be, so that works out well.”

Even though I knew nothing would happen, I couldn’t quite shake my anxious feeling. I wondered if it was obvious.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, looking concerned.

Yep. Obvious.

“Some water?”

And a defibrillator.

He squeezed my hands and kissed me briefly. I crossed my arms and watched while he grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a built-in minifridge. He handed me one, but I didn’t open it. Instead, I just stared at his chest, wanting to run my fingers across his skin. It was like a topographical map to Hot Guy’s Chest, and I wanted to explore.

Then I realized my hand had made an independent decision, and that’s exactly what it was doing—running my fingertips across his abs, feeling the muscles contract and his breath catch when I made contact. I curled my fingers inward and pulled my rebel hand away.

He raised one eyebrow at me, looking amused. “You don’t have to stop on my account.” I wondered how much I was blushing when he added, “I don’t normally sleep with a shirt. Should I put one on?”

“Yes!I mean, whatever you want.”

With a knowing smirk, he went back into his bathroom. I guessed his closet was in there because I didn’t see a dresser.

I decided to get into bed, but then I didn’t know what side he slept on. I had a twin mattress in my apartment, so my regular side was everywhere. Chase returned, pulling on a T-shirt that bore the name of a band I’d never heard of. I put my water on one of the nightstands, not really wanting to drink it. He grabbed the bundling board and placed it in the middle of the bed, but we both quickly realized we didn’t have any way of making it stay put. It kept leaning to one side. We tried stacking pillows against it, but that didn’t work.

“The bed frames they used with this probably had some kind of slot or something,” I offered. “We could just put pillows between us.”

“That could work.” He put the board on the floor, and we piled up pillows, which stayed this time. “Climb in, and I’ll get the lights.”

I chose the side of the bed I was closest to, pulling back the covers and settling in. Chase plunged the room into darkness, and the mattress sank under his weight. He didn’t move the covers, though. He stayed on top of them. My eyes adjusted after a few seconds, and he removed the pillows that blocked us from seeing each other. We turned on our sides, our faces just a pillow width apart.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I whispered back.

We lay in silence for a few minutes, just looking at each other. I couldn’t believe how much I loved this. Being here with him.

I wished I could do it every night.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” Chase started tossing pillows to the floor.

My throat felt tight. Was he going to send me away? “Do what?”

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