Page 80 of Unlikely

Wordlessly, I sit up, letting the robe slip off my shoulders and pool around my waist. I reach for Zara, pushing the heavy material off her body till we’re both topless.

Switching off the lamp beside me, I climb in between the sheets, and Zara follows. Naked, I wrap her body around mine, my back pressed to her front, and guide her hand in between my legs. It’s a dull ache, a gentle throb, and it’s one I don’t want to dissipate.

I want to fall asleep with her knowing just how much I need her.

“Hold me,” I whisper into the dark.

Without question or judgment, Zara cups my sex and kisses the back of my neck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

* * *

“Morning,” Zara says softly. The smell of fresh pastries has me lifting my head up from underneath my pillow. “I bought you some breakfast.”

I turn my head to find her already dressed, sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, sipping an iced mocha. In front of her is a large white paper bag, filled with what I assume is baked goods, and a drink for me.

“How come I didn’t feel you leave the bed?” I ask groggily.

“I made an effort to be super stealthy, but also, you were too tired to notice,” she explains. “The snoring kind of gave you away.”

I gasp, mortified. “I do not snore.”

Zara chuckles. “Well, not all the time, since I don’t remember you snoring at my place or when you fall asleep on the phone.”

Playfully, I attempt to throw a nearby pillow in her direction, purposefully missing her and the drinks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s kind of cute,” she remarks. “But it also makes me worry you’re not sleeping enough.”

My heart never fails to trip over itself whenever she voices her concern, because it’s so rare that anybody reminds me to stop and take care of myself.

“I probably just sleep better next to you,” I say truthfully.

Everything feels better with her, and the last twenty-four hours only solidified that. I want more of it. I want what Arlo has with Frankie and what Lennox has with Samuel and Rhys. I finally understand what it’s like to want something for myself, and I’m determined to keep her.

“When we get back from Seattle, I think it’ll be a good time to tell Raine.” Her voice perks up. “And then maybe we could have more sleepovers. Tell her you need it to sleep better.”

I smile at all the possibilities. I’m giddy over telling Raine, a far contrast from the anxiety I felt early on. I know it will be a hiccup, no matter what, and Raine will be entitled to all her feelings, but it won’t be the end of us that I predicted. Of that I’m sure.

“What’s the time?” I ask

Zara casually grabs my phone off her nightstand and hands it to me. It takes a few moments for my sleepy eyes to register what I’m looking at, but when I notice, I whip my head up. “Did you fix my screen? How did you even…? Where did you go?”

A smirk tugs at her lips. “When your alarm went off this morning and it took me forty whole seconds to turn it off without slicing my fingers, I decided it was time. I searched the area online and found something nearby.”

“Zara.” I sit up, covering my naked body with the sheets, warmth filling my chest at the gesture. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to?—”

“I know,” she interjects. “And this isn’t about me doing it because I thought you couldn’t. Nothing I do for you is because I think you can’t do it for yourself. It’s because Icando nice things for you.” She carefully transfers the food and drink to the bedside table and then scoots herself closer to me, resting a hand on my cheek. “Because I want to, Clementine. Can’t I be the person who gets to do nice things for you? And watch your face light up with surprise, knowing I’m the one who put that look there?”

“You are that person.” I put a hand over hers, so grateful that she can read me like an open book, knowing how to ease all my insecurities at just the right time. “You’re so much more than just that person.”

“Good.” She kisses me on the nose. “Now, enjoy your phone screen and your cut-free fingers and let’s eat what I bought from this bakery I found.”

She hands me my iced mocha before tearing open the bag to reveal two of everything. There are sweet pastries and savory pastries, and far too much for just the two of us.

“Is anybody else joining us this morning, because there’s no way this is all for us,” I say before taking a sip of the cool liquid.

“My stomach couldn’t make its mind up.”

I reach for a chocolate cinnamon roll and groan at the first bite. “These are so good.”

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