Page 32 of What Are The Odds?
He was silent for a moment.
“I–”
Footsteps and hushed voices on the other side of the door distracted us. Tripp, Ryan and Will were whispering to each other. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but I could imagine.
“Do you think they think we’re–”
“Big time,” Levi answered.
I blushed.
“Let them think whatever,” he said. “They’re idiots anyway.”
I held my breath as I waited for the footsteps to retreat. It took a while, but eventually they conceded after realising they weren’t about to hear one of Levi’sscreamers.
“Hey, Levi,” I whispered.
“Yes, Grace?” he whispered back.
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
He was silent for a moment.
“Hey, Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for trusting me to stay.”
17. You’re fucked
Levi.
Of course I woke up with Grace tangled around me. I’m not sure whether I’d come to her, or she’d come to me. Either way, at some point in the night, we’d ended up in the middle of the bed, our limbs intertwining. We were facing one another, her head nestled in the crook of my arm and my head resting above hers. Her hair fanned across the mattress. It was disorientating my senses. She smelt good, like fruit and coconut. A tropical oasis. How the hell had this happened? Her even breaths were almost enough to lull me back to sleep, but I fought the temptation. I was waking up beside a girl, who I hadn’t gotten naked with last night. And one I had no intention of getting naked with. Well, at least not like this. The bet I’d made with Richardson was like a heavy wave of water crashing over me. I felt dirty thinking about it. I could’ve won last night. I could’ve drunkenly kissed Grace and called it. Hell, I could’ve put on my charm and woken up in this same position, minus the clothes. That was a win if ever I heard one. But I didn’t want to win anymore. Truth be told, I didn’t want to play at all. I hadn’t expected to like Grace. She was fun to be around, and easy to talk to, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be dragged into a pissing match between Ryker and me. I made no effort to release Grace or put space between us. This was . . . nice. I could almost get used to–
“Ah, Levi,” came Grace’s groggy voice.
“Yeah?”
“Is that–”
She pushed onto her elbow, staring down where her stomach connected with my groin. I didn’t even flinch.
“Totally natural, Hughesy.”
I smiled smugly. I had no shame. I was a guy. It was first thing in the morning. This happened. Grace’s tanned thigh unhooked from me as she rolled away. My shirt she had borrowed had risen, giving a glimpse to black, lace underwear. I groaned. That wasn’t helping the morning wood situation.
“Lucky you opted to savour masturbation so you can sort that out,” she said.
“That was a hypothetical answer,” I told her. “I’m not really forbidden from receiving a blow job.”
She barked out a laugh before rolling from the bed and taking her warmth with her. She didn’t bother attempting to tame her hair or wipe the sleep from her eyes as she sauntered to the bathroom.
“Don’t listen to me pee,” she called out, slamming the door behind her.
I flicked on the TV, turning it to a sports channel for background noise. A video of a protruding tibia was enough to get rid of my morning glory. I grimaced, imaging the pain and recovery an injury like that would include. When Grace came out, she was dressed back in her clothes. I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face. She’d looked really good in my shirt.
“Even after brushing my teeth all I can taste is passionfruit.”
