Page 58 of The Best Friend Power Play

"Little," he answers without any hesitation.

"Oh."

He waits a few seconds. "I'm joking."

I let out a breath. "Is it bad that I feel relieved?"

He chuckles. "Not at all."

A few seconds later, he envelops me with his big, warm body.

"How does this feel?" he asks, wrapping me up in his arms.

"Good."

"I'm glad."

"And for the record…"

"Yeah?"

"The kiss wasn't good."

"Oh."

I peer over my shoulder and smile. "It was exceptional."

The next morning, I wake up before Culver.

I'm still cradled in his arms, with the slow steady rhythm of his breathing against my back. We must not have moved all night.

I try lifting his arm carefully to wriggle out of his grip, but the movement makes him stir, and he bundles me even closer into his body.

I didn't know Culver has a possessive side. Or at least, his subconscious does.

Not that I mind. I only want to freshen up a little before he wakes up because how do romance novels handle the issue of morning breath? Does everyone wake up with minty fresh breath and simply resume kissing?

I smile at the thought of having another kiss this morning.

Because, yeah, exceptional doesn't even begin to do that kiss justice. I may be a virgin, but I have kissed a few guys, and let me just say, Culver's kiss last night blew every other kiss I've had out of the water.

Out of the ocean.

Out of the stratosphere.

Behind me, he yawns, stretches his legs out, and then rolls over onto his back.

I turn around. His face is covered by his arm and he's…wincing?

Yikes. Is my morning breath so bad it's stunk out the whole room?

But then I see what his other hand is doing. He's running it up and down his leg.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He nods, grimacing. "Yeah. It's always bad in the morning."

"Can I get you anything?"

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