Page 24 of What About Us
I grin up at him and slide over so he can scoot in next to me. Once he’s in and resting on his back, he tucks his left arm behind his head and pulls the blankets up to his waist.
“Thanks, Huddy,” I whisper and tuck my hands under my cheek on my pillow, facing him.
He glances over and he gives me a crooked smile. “Go to sleep, Jameson.”
I sigh and he chuckles, knowing I’m wide awake and want to chat.
“You have to be up in less than four hours,” he says.
“You’re such a dad,” I scoff, feigning irritation, then reach over and pull his armpit hair.
“Ow, fuck.” He laughs, rubbing his armpit.
I cackle quietly and scootch closer to him, the spicy scent of his deodorant filling my nose. “If I could just squeeze in right here,” I say with a grin and cross my arm over his ribs as I settle my head against his chest, with my ear resting against his armpit.
God,what am I doing?
He glances down at me. “Comfortable?”
“I am now.” I chuckle.
He sighs and shakes his head, but he’s got a ghost of a smile on his face. “Night, Jameson,” he finally says.
“Nighty night, Huddy,” I say and snuggle closer.
Chapter 9
Finnley
When I wake upthe next morning, I’m in bed alone. I shower and dress, then throw my hair into a braid.
When I walk into the kitchen, Hudson’s sitting at the island, with a cup of coffee at his elbow and his laptop open in front of him. He’s still in the sweats he wore to bed, but he’s added a black T-shirt.
“Morning,” I say, coming up behind him and giving his hair a little ruffle as I pass him on the way to the coffee pot.
“Morning,” he grunts, but doesn’t glance up from whatever he’s looking at on the screen.
“Thanks for making coffee,” I say and open the cabinet in search of my travel mug.
“Next to the microwave,” he says, still without looking up.
I glance to the side and spot my cup, and when I lift it, it’s full. Leave it to him to have it ready for me.
“Thanks,” I say and cross to the fridge to take out a bagel and the cream cheese.
“Yep.”
I pop an everything bagel into the toaster and turn to face him, leaning back against the counter, with the fingers of both hands curled around the edge. His eyes stay on his laptop, a crease marking the space between his eyebrows.
“Thanks for staying last night. I thought you’d still be snoring away when I woke up. Did you sleep ok?” He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and he hasn’t showered yet, because he’s still rocking the wolverine hairdo. He’s kind of adorable, even if a little broody this morning. Maybe I kept him awake snoring. Or maybe he didn’t get much sleep, considering I was glued to him all night. Sleeping alone is glorious because you can spread out and hog all the covers, but when you don’t feel good, having someone there for comfort is way better in my opinion.
He takes a sip of his coffee, hums in affirmation, then briefly glances up at me before looking back at the computer. He’s normally a morning person. So, the quiet awkwardness rolling off him is weird.
“What’s up with you?” I ask and turn away when my bagel pops up. Grabbing it from the toaster, I play hot potato with it in my hands before dumping it on the counter and opening the drawer to get a knife for the cream cheese.
It takes him a full five seconds before he answers: “Nothing.”
I turn back and pin him with a look as I smear cream cheese on my bagel. I put down the butter knife and take a big bite, my eyes not leaving his.
