“That’s two words, and I’m not thanking you for refusing to sleep on a bed that’s more than big enough for both of us.” Hayden was overbearing and difficult enough on a good day. I wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of seeing what he was like after a night of sleeping on the floor.
He turned to face me, one brow climbing up his forehead. “Are you telling me you want to share my bed, Sunday School?”
“I’m telling you that we’re grown adults who should be able to handle sleeping beside each other.”
“Mm.” He stalked toward me until we were toe-to-toe, and I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. His hands landed on the door behind me on either side of my head, caging me in. “So your plan is to act like strangers? You want me to pretend I don’t know what your skin tastes like or the sounds you make when I thrust my tongue in your mouth?”
“S-stop it,” I whispered.
“You started this, Sunday School.”
“And you ended it,” I snapped at him. “You left and spent the past eight months flaunting an endless line of women on your arm.”
A gleam entered his eyes. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” I told him honestly. I was never jealous of those women. I was too busy being hurt by the fact that he could move on from me so easily.
Hayden’s eyes narrowed, a thread of irritationshooting through his aura. “Fine. We can share the bed like fucking strangers.”
I blinked at him, not understanding the sudden change. Why was he acting pissed off now? Being around him was a bit like riding a roller coaster with a blindfold on. There were highs and lows, and it was impossible to know what lay ahead or to brace myself.
He pushed off the door and stalked away from me, tension emanating from him. I stared at his retreating back, wondering what the heck had just happened.
I wokewith an arm banded around my waist and a warm body at my back. Hayden was holding on to me like he was afraid someone was going to try to take me away from him.
Attempting to disentangle myself without waking him up, I pried his hand away from where it was tucked underneath me. He stirred, mumbling something incoherent as he somehow managed to wiggle even closer to me, his face nuzzling against my neck.
Oh God, why did that feel so good?
On my second attempt, I managed to slip out of Hayden’s hold. But I didn’t make it far before a hand caught my wrist.
“Sunday School?” Hayden asked, his voice thick with sleep.
Shoot.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled, his eyes still half-closed.
“Out of bed,” I said slowly, feeling like there was definitely a right and wrong answer here.
He blinked a couple of times, like he was still trying to get his bearings, and then abruptly dropped my wrist as if it had suddenly turned scalding.
“Give me five minutes,” he said, ignoring the fact that we’d been cuddling only seconds ago. “Don’t go anywhere without me.”
He sat up and the blanket fell to his lap. Holy eight-pack. It had been nearly a year since I’d seen Hayden shirtless, and I swear he’d somehow become even more attractive in that time. I couldn’t help admiring his cut muscles, the dark hair that dusted his chest and lower stomach, the bold tattoos that covered each of his upper arms.
Hayden Blake’s body was a work of art, and I was used to being around shirtless angels, so I had high standards.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” I quickly looked away from his torso like I’d been caught doing something wrong. Which I hadn’t. It wasn’t a crime to look at my husband even if he was only my fake husband.
Miles and Mrs. Blake were both already in the kitchen when we came downstairs. Miles sat at the breakfast bar with his attention glued to the phone in his hand, and Mrs. Blake was at the stove, stirring what smelled like eggs.
“Good morning,” she said with a bright smile. “How did you sleep?”
My cheeks warmed at her question. I’d slept very well while using Hayden as a human blanket.
“Great,” Hayden said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before looking over his shoulder and back at me. “What do you want for breakfast?”