Page 83 of How You See Me
“We’ll work on changing that, too.”
I grin despite myself and fall onto my back, tucking an arm under her. She rests her head on my chest and drapes a leg over mine.
For the first time since talking with Mom, the tightness in my chest eases. The noise in my head fades. There’s no panic. No guilt. No expectations.
Listening to her breaths syncing with mine, it’s not exactly peace I feel. But it’s the closest I’ve come to it in years.
And I have her to thank for that.
Chapter 18
Josie
I’ve been lying awake since Hayes showed me how a real man delivers a goodnight kiss. He lit every inch of me on fire, then . . . fell asleep.
It’s completely unfair. How is he not coming out of his skin like I am?
His hot, sexy body—literally hot, he’s a human furnace under the blanket—makes me crave him even more. But I’m sweating in places I didn’t know could sweat. Sitting up, I peel off my T-shirt, and stretch out on top of the covers. I’d lose this bra too if Hayes and I were in a different place in our situationship. If the idea ofuswasn’t mere hours old.
Still, after seeing him let go at the waterfall, holding him through his flashback, and feeling his tender care after my freakout, I would have internally combusted if we hadn’t crossedthe line he drew.
I’m about to escape to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face when Hayes’s arm slings around me, strong and heavy. He’s still asleep, probably dreaming I’m just another pillow, and hugs me tight against his chest. Bare skin to bare skin. His knees tuck behind mine, fitting us together perfectly.
I’d probably have some sort of uncontrollable emotion over our first time spooning if I didn’t feel so safe. Like I belong tangled up and overheating in Hayes’s arms.
It's not long before my body goes lax and I drift off to sleep along with him.
???
For the fourth morning in a row, the scent of breakfast cooking lures me awake. I stretch and kick off the blankets, enjoying the cool air on my skin—until a throat clears.
Hayes.
I bolt upright, my hair falling in messy waves over my bare shoulders, mostly covering the bra I almost forgot was showing.
“Morning,” he greets from the window, holding a mug in one hand and phone in the other. He’s shirtless, golden in the morning light, and breathtaking.
“Morning. How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to hear fivelongTim stories.”
“Yikes. What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty. Lorna is keeping a plate warm for you if you’re hungry.”
“That’s nice of her. One day, I’ll wake up first and make you breakfast.”
“You’ll have to beat the sun to do that. I like to work out at first light.”
“Ugh. Maybe I’ll aim for post-workout, then.”
He sets his mug and phone down and lowers to the edge of the bed, just out of reach. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay. You?”
“Best I’ve slept in weeks.”
“Hmm.” I can’t help the sly grin. “Wonder what’s different?” I also wonder if he knows he snuggled me against him like a teddy bear. Did he wake up while our legs and arms were intertwined? Is that why he’s being so distant? Is he regretting it?
