Page 14 of Beehive Yourself
“Hallie…” My name sounds funny, like a plea or maybe a warning, but I’m too tired to do this with him.
Too tired to move.
“Go to sleep, Sawyer.”
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“At least I’m fun.”
“Like apple pie in a truck bed.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
Unleashing a weary sigh, I feel the mattress move as Sawyer rolls over, grumbling as he does before pausing. “Goodnight, Hallie.”
Snuggling into the pillow, I don’t try to hide my smile in the darkness. I may regret my decision in the morning, but for now, it feels better than any dream.
SAWYER
Walker is already seatedat a table in the back, a beer in his hand and one waiting for me on the glossy wood tabletop.
Thank God.
“You look like hell,” he says as I sit and take a long pull from the beer. It’s noon but I feel like I’ve run a marathon. I didn’t sleep worth a damn, and despite her insistence that everything would befine, there was nothin’ fine about the way my sheets smell like her, or the way she curled up with the blanket tucked under her chin.
I’d wanted to hold her.
And then fuck her and make love to her over and over again. Her hair spread out on the pillow had done something to me. The seemingly innocent pose had me imagining how she’d look with her head thrown back and her lips parted as she begs to come.
I’d eased out of bed just after five, my body jittery and my mind whirling with all kinds of unhelpful ways to make her beg.
Fuck.
“Hallie slept in my bed.”
Frowning, he cocks his head to the side and stares at me. “Shouldn’t you look more relaxed than that?”
“Nothing happened.”
“Hallie wasin your bedand nothing happened?”
“She got up to use the bathroom and ended up in my room instead of hers.” Dragging my hand over my mouth, I let the prick of my stubble ground me. “It’s fucking me up.”
“I can see that.” Brows furrowed, he adds, “Have you talked to her?”
“And say what? Hey, I know it was a mistake and you were tired but I can’t stop thinking about having you in my bed and it’s making me manic.”
“I mean…maybe not that specifically, but I think you hit all the high points.”
Taking a pull of my beer, I glare at him because there’s no fucking way I’m doing that.
“I’m bein’ serious,” I snap and he chuckles—the bastard—and my accent gets stronger as my agitation grows.
“You picked the wrong friend if you want me to tell you not to go for her.”
“You’re my only friend.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a conversation for a different day.”
