Page 104 of A Lucky Shot

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CASS

The half stupor of semi-consciousness peppered Cass with a barrage of mixed signals. Only the faintest grey-blue light trickled into the room, even with the curtains pulled wide, and crystalline flakes glittered on the other side of the glass. Her usually noisy street was quiet with the Christmas lull, making it seem like the outside world had disappeared.

It would have been a dreamy way to wake up if she wasn’t being strangled.

She yanked down the hem of her top from around her throat until she could take a full breath and kicked away the blankets where they had tangled in knots with her pyjama pants.

That’s why I don’t usually wear these to bed. She peeled open an eye. Why did I wear these to bed?

Pyjamas. Because she wanted to dance with fire and let him spend the night.

No. More than let. Wanted.

The space beside her was empty, but warm. Before she could sit up, she heard the toilet flush and taps run, followed by footsteps hurrying down the hall into her room.

Whether he’d stripped his hoodie before or after he fell asleep, she didn’t know. Goosebumps flecked his arms and chest, the smooth plain of his torso disappearing below the waistband of his sweats slung low on his hips. He was shaking his hair out of his eyes, and his scowl morphed into a half-grin as he saw her.

Definitely dancing with fire. She rolled to her back to stare at the ceiling and remove his abs out of her eyeline.

“Jesus, my nipples could cut glass.” He dove back into bed and pulled the duvet up to his eyebrows. “Thank god you’re awake. I didn’t want to rifle through your shit. I need coffee.”

“Are you always this demanding in the morning?”

His voice came muffled from below the covers. “I’m demanding all the time. Besides, you owe me.”

“For what?”

“I’m sure there’s something. I need coffee to remember what that is.”

Cass felt the corners of her mouth curve up. “How long have you been awake?”

“Two minutes.”

Add caffeine addiction to the slim treasure chest of knowledge she knew about him. “Okay, coffee is on its way. How do you take it?”

“Black as my soul.”

Cass puttered around her kitchen, cleaning up the more obvious messes while the coffee brewed.

A few messages had come in. A rambling voice note from Libby and Stephen. A trio of texts from Jill. A Merry Christmas from Raina, with a picture of her beaming kids unwrapping the presents Cass had given them.

Nothing from her sister or brother, but they could still be busy with the kids and sleeping, respectively. An off-centre selfie from her parents with the caption, wish you were here!

If that was true, you would have invited me.

As the final drips sputtered from the filter, Josh shuffled out of the bedroom, wrestling with his hoodie, and plopped in front of her stack of movies.

“One soul-black coffee.” She handed him the cup and curled her fingers around her own, doctored heavily with hazelnut syrup and a splash of cream.

“I love LOTR marathons as much as the next nerd, but I’m guessing you’ve got something better than that.”

On second thought, maybe she wasn’t missing out on the California sun. Cass nodded, one leg tucked under her, her bad knee extended to rest on the coffee table. “I’m open to suggestion.”

Josh flipped through the movies stacked on end. He sat cross-legged, curled over the selection before him. Every so often he’d pause, take a case out to smirk at the cover, either shaking his head and replacing it, or stacking it off to the side. The hem of his oversized hoodie rode up enough to display the dimples at the base of his spine, and the overwhelming desire to kneel behind him and slide her hands over them danced across her mind.

Sexy Dimples. He had to have done it on purpose.

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