Page 22 of What Are the Chances
He arched a brow. “Going to bed.”
I levelled him with a knowing glare that had him sighing.
“You know I run hot when I sleep, Riley.”
I did. He was literally like a furnace to sleep beside. It was a shame I couldn’t touch him tonight because I could really use the heat right now.
“Fine,” I conceded. “But the pants stay on.”
“You want me to sleep in jeans?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You do realise that morning wood and denim aren’t a good combination, right?”
I shrugged, adjusting the pillow. “That sounds like your dick’s problem.”
As his eyes widened, a flicker of amusement played at the corner of his lips.
Note to self, Riley: don’t mention Will’s dick for the rest of the night.
In one swift movement he peeled off his hoodie and t-shirt.Un-freaking-fair.The toned torso I’d been familiar with was now muscled. Ripples ran along his stomach, creating the perfect V that disappeared beneath his jeans that under no circumstances were coming off tonight.
The added muscle wasn’t the only addition. His entire right arm and pec were covered in tattoos, and a matching sleeve was beginning to take shape on the left side of his body. He’d had a few tattoos when we were together, but this was something else. Though I was curious to study each one, I forced myself to look away.
I instinctively held my breath when Will climbed into the swag. Like me, he made a conscious effort to remain as far to the outer edge as possible. Though that still didn’t leave enough space between us.
After a few moments of awkwardly adjusting, including him accidentally pulling the blankets over my head and me kicking his shin, we found a happy medium.
“Good?” he checked.
“Yes,” I lied.
He reached up to zip the swag closed. Then just like that, the outside world ceased to exist.
For someone who’d been extremely tired, I was now incredibly wired. There was no point in even closing my eyes because sleep wasn’t close at all. The distant thrum of music and instant darkness somehow made us feel more isolated. I was conscious of how loudly I was breathing. In this small space, nothing was sacred.
“Riley?”
Something about my name coming from Will Caufield’s mouth filled me with a nervous energy.
“Yeah?”
“I need to roll onto my side.”
“Okay?”
“My left side,” he clarified. “I, ugh, can’t lay on my right shoulder still.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Okay.”
We fell into another awkward shuffle as he rolled towards me. Though even in the darkness, knowing he was facing me was eerie, so just as he got settled I rolled over and we repeated the uncomfortable process all over again.
Back when we were dating, we were like one entity in bed. When one rolled, the other did. It was never stiff or awkward. We were a well-oiled machine, some part of our bodies always touching.
“Riley?”
“I swear to god, Caufield. If you say you need to roll over again–”
