Page 84 of Let It Breathe
Reese nodded, not sure she could speak.
“I was worried about crushing you,” he murmured.
Reese smiled and reached up to grab his shoulders. She pulled him down to her, forcing his weight on top of her.
“Stop being so damn polite,” she said.
Clay laughed and Reese felt the vibration of it deep in her chest. “That might be the strangest thing anyone’s ever said to me in bed.”
He was still hard inside her, still ready for his turn. A perfect damn gentleman, insisting that ladies go first. Reese grinned.
“Allow me to apologize in advance for my bad manners.” Still grinning, she flipped him onto his back.
Clay lay there in silence after Reese drifted off to sleep. His head was swimming, even though his body felt so saturated with pleasure that his nerve endings ached.
What the hell did you just do?
Not that he regretted it. Not exactly. Hell, it had been amazing. Reese was amazing. He couldn’t regret that, but still.
Your best friend’s ex.
One of the only friendships you have left.
Clay eased away from her reluctantly, trying not to wake her. He pulled the covers up around her, feeling his heart twist as she smiled in her sleep and made a soft whimpering sound.
God, she’s perfect.
He stood there watching her sleep for a few breaths, not quite ready to go. But hell, he had to. Larissa was sleeping in the same house, and the last thing he needed was to have her wake up and discover them twined around each other. The whole family would hear about it. Eric would hear about it. Reese would never live it down.
Still, he hesitated. He didn’t want to just leave without a word. That would be rude, something the old Clay might’ve done. Maybe if he slept on the couch?
No, still too close. Even worse, her family would see his truck there in the morning, and they’d know he’d spent the night.
Okay, so he’d go.
The thought of driving back to his cold hotel room wasn’t appealing, either, but it was his only option. He looked at Reese again, her hair spread out on the pillow and her hand curled against one cheek.
So beautiful.
He shook his head, thinking this is what perverts did. Stand there naked watching a woman sleep. He dressed in silence, figuring he could shower when he got back to the hotel.
He opened the bedroom door and crept into the living room. There, he looked around for some paper and something to write with. He found a notepad on the kitchen counter with a pen tucked into the spiral and sat down to write her a note.
What the hell should he say?
The old Clay wouldn’t have left a note at all, or maybe he would have. Something gauche—thanks for the great lay or an asinine thing like that. Clay looked down at the blank paper, not wanting to blow it.
Reese, he wrote. I had a great time.
He stopped, stared at the words on the page. Stupid. It sounded like bathroom graffiti. For a good time, call Reese.
He tore off the page and tried again.
Reese, I wish I could stay, but?—
But what?
“Dammit,” he muttered, and tore off the page again.
