Page 13 of The Twelve-Hour Rule
“So…” I start, trying to find the words to say what’s on my mind. Maybe I shouldn’t since this is a one night thing, and bythis time tomorrow I’ll be tucked in my own bed in a freezing apartment. “I haven’t done this in a while.”
Ben stills, his hand resting at my hip, eyes searching mine. “Me either.”
“Actually,” and the words are definitely out before my overthinking brain can stop them, “I haven’t had a one night stand ever.”
“Now I’mtrulyhonored,” he says, kissing me deeply. “We can stop now.”
“No, no.” I course correct, because I really do want this. I think this is the way to get me out of this funk. This cycle of overthinking everything to the point of exhaustion. “No.”
He studies me for a long beat, like he’s checking to make sure I mean it. When I don’t pull away, the tension in his shoulders eases.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Then just… let me know if you want me to slow down.”
I nod, and the corner of his mouth lifts again—that crooked half-smile that looks a little relieved. He leans in, forehead against mine.
“This is supposed to be fun, Sol,” he whispers. “Remember fun?”
I laugh quietly, the sound small between us. “Vaguely. If you only knew the year I’ve had…”
“Let’s fix that.”
CHAPTER 7
BEN
“Merry Christmas, Sunshine,”I say, nudging the tray onto the bed between us. I woke up an hour ago and went in search of food and coffee, just like every single morning person in the resort. Sol was still in her bed, sleeping soundly, her face completely relaxed like all her worries had suddenly disappeared. “I brought you coffee. And this.”
Sol blinks up at me, squinting against the morning light. Her hair’s a tangle of waves and her voice is still half-asleep and muffled by the pillow. “Where’d you get that Santa hat?”
“I found it by the pool,” I say, keeping a straight face. I bend down and kiss the crown of her head and she buries herself deeper into the sheets, sighing before opening her eyes again.
Her brow arches. “Ben. Did you just steal this from someone?”
“What? No. It was on a lounger.”
“Yeah, a lounger where people leave their belongings for the day and then come back to get them.”
I grin and set the ridiculous hat on my head. “Then I’ll return it later. Christmas emergency.”
“Christmas isn’t even for two days,” she says, feigning some sort of annoyance, but she laughs either way and sits up, sheets pooling at her waist. “You’re unbelievable.”
“That’s what they say,” I mumble around a sip of coffee. The grin she gives me makes my chest feel too tight for something as simple as a morning-after joke. Last night was supposed to be easy—fun, forgettable. But nothing about it was. She’d looked at me like I was something worth reaching for, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
The air is different now; lighter, quieter, but not awkward. More like the calm after a storm that changes the pace of things. She looks rested. And I probably don’t judging by how little sleep I actually got. Not because of the obvious reasons, but because I couldn’t stop watching her sleep, trying to memorize what she looked like without that constant weight behind her eyes.
“You’re staring,” she says, tilting her head.
“Observing,” I correct. “It’s for scientific purposes.”
“Right. Of course.”
“I need to understand the aftereffects of spontaneous decision-making.”
She blushes at that, and it’s so adorable I want to kiss her, maybe even flatten her on the bed and eat her out again.
“Uh-huh,” she replies, running her right hand through her left shoulder and pressing the muscle right there. Her eyes flutter closed and I see the freckles on her face, just a smattering right below where her lashes meet her cheeks. “And your conclusions?”
“Promising,” I say, smiling into my mug. “Very promising.”
