Page 17 of Looks Real Good Now
“Let’s start here, what is your sleep schedule like?”
“It’s determined to stick to professional hockey time.”
“Meaning?”
“Bed by eleven, awake by seven.”
“Every day of the week? Your sleep hygiene is that good?”
“I don’t really have much say in the matter at this point. I sort of operate on autopilot with it all.”
“Why did we not think of this earlier as a reason why we shouldn’t share a room? There is no way your dad would have let his Golden Boy’s sleep schedule get messed up for a girl. Not when you could still get back on that ice.” I was going for joking, but the silence went on a beat too long.
“Don’t call me that,” he whispered.
“What, Golden Boy? You’ve been called that for years,” I pointed out. The first time someone took note of his ability on the ice, he was dubbed the Golden Boy. He was fifteen. His career lived up to the title.
“Never by you.” There was a vulnerability to his voice that I had never heard before. I nodded my head once. It wasn’t myfavourite nickname of his anyway.
“Okay, I won’t. The rest of my point remains. You sleep well. How would it not be annoying to be disturbed by someone when you were mid-REM cycle or whatever?”
Another pause.
“What’s your sleep schedule then?” he eventually asked.
“I dunno. I’m in bed by one and awake by five most days,” I mumbled. I knew it was bad. I’d tried to fix it so many times over the years with no success.
Liam blinked very slowly. So slowly that I thought he might have been falling back asleep.
“Alana, that’s barely four hours of sleep a night. How are you functioning?”
“Ooh, a full name moment, must be serious. To answer your question, I function just fine. I sneak a nap in the middle of the afternoon to top up. I run a bakery and am the head baker. A lot of things depend on me.” It was a weak argument at best, but it was the only one I had.
“That’s…I…okay, turn over.”
“Why?”
“You don’t even sleep on your back most of the time, so I don’t know how you were planning on sleeping like that. Get comfy, which in your case, is on your side.” He twirled a finger around to make his point. I wanted to resist but turned over onto my side. He was right anyway; I’d forgotten that he would know that about me.
I felt the bed dip and rock before a blanket of body heat encompassed me. I waited to feel annoyed that someone was encroaching on my personal space but, once again, I foundmyself wanting to sink into his warmth.
“I’m going to hug you now,” he said, his voice a whisper in my ear. He waited a breath and then draped an arm over my waist when I didn’t object. He pulled me closer to him until his chest was flush with my back.
“You’ve gone from telling me you were sleeping on the floor to spooning. Quite the one-eighty from you there.”
“It’s all just one big ploy to get access to your fancy pillowcase.”
“It’s not fancy, it’s a necessity to keep these curls in check.” I flicked my hair, bundled in a pineapple on top of my head, to prove my point. He laughed softly, his breath brushing the back of my neck and making me shiver.
I closed my eyes and made myself follow the steady rhythm of his chest moving against me.
Just as I was about to fall asleep, I remembered what side of his body he was sleeping on. I tried to shuffle out his grip, but he held me firmly in place.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled.
“Are you okay to lie on your shoulder like this?”
“Len, can you leave me to worry about my shoulder, which is fine? Relax.”
