Page 22 of Christmas With the Jerk

Part of me considers going back to my own room. The rational part. The part that says this whole thing is complicated. That getting more involved with her is dangerous, especially with everything riding on tomorrow.

But the other part? The part that’s still buzzing from the way we touched each other, the way we fit together like we’ve been doing this for years, is what resonates the most strongly. That partdoesn’t want to go anywhere but back to that bed and back into her arms.

I towel off my face, standing there for a second longer, then make up my mind. Screw it. We’ve already crossed the line, what is the harm in finishing out the night together?

I push the door open quietly and slip back into the room. Woodley’s still there, curled up under the covers, her breathing soft and even. The moonlight from the window casts a soft glow across her face, and for a moment, I just stand there, looking at her. She’s beautiful. Damn it.

I slide back into bed as carefully as I can, and almost immediately, she shifts toward me, her body finding its way back into mine, like she’s done it a thousand times. Her head rests on my chest, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer.

The warmth of her body against mine is enough to make the rest of the world fade away. I breathe her in, the scent of her hair, her skin. It’s... calming, in a way I didn’t expect.

For once, I don’t feel the weight of everything. Right now, it’s just her. Just us.

I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion pull me back under, my hand resting on her back as I drift off again.

5:30am

The shrill soundof an alarm cuts through the darkness, yanking me from sleep. I groan, rolling over and pressing myface into the pillow, trying to cling to the remnants of rest. My brain feels foggy, like I’m stuck halfway between dreaming and waking. It’s way too early.

And then I remember, again, where I am. Maybe I should have gone to my room in the middle of the night after all.

I blink into the faint light filtering through the window and feel the warmth of Woodley’s body beside me. For a second, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to process the fact that I’m in her bed, not mine. She shifts next to me, reaching for her phone to turn off the alarm, and I feel the slight brush of her smooth leg against mine.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. “Didn’t mean to wake you. But I wanted to give myself enough time to get up and ready.”

I grunt, still not fully awake. “We could’ve just stayed up all night. Would’ve had the same result.”

She laughs softly, turning toward me with a sleepy smile. “Yeah, well, I’m glad I set it before we went down to the bar. I was worried I’d be too tired to wake up. Someone kept me up way too late.”

I smirk, rolling onto my side to face her. “Someone, huh?”

She grins, her eyes still half-closed, and I can’t help but smile back. Even in the early morning light, with her hair tousled from sleep and the faintest smudge of eyeliner under her eyes, she’s beautiful. Effortlessly so. The kind of beauty that sneaks up on you when you least expect it and grabs ahold of your balls and doesn’t let go.

And then I remember when she did grab onto my balls. My erection grows at the thought of it. I know better than to go there, but damn, some morning sex would be amazing for mental clarity.

“Yeah, someone,” she teases, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head.

I watch her, the way the soft light from the window catches on her skin, the curve of her back, the way her hair falls around her face. There’s something almost surreal about this moment—waking up beside her like this, after everything that’s happened.

A flicker of memory flashes through my mind—her body pressed against mine, the heat between us, the way she looked at me, completely unguarded. It wasn’t just physical. There was something else. Something that lingers, even now, an emotional connection.

Woodley yawns, pulling me out of the moment. “I guess I should get up and start this full morning. We’ve been working for this moment.”

I nod, forcing myself to sit up. Time to face reality. The pitch is in two hours, and we can’t afford to be anything less than perfect.

“I’m gonna head next door, get dressed, and do... whatever I need to do at this ungodly hour,” I say, pulling the sheets off me. My erection pops out, betraying me. She looks down and then away as if she didn’t get to know it intimately last night. I quickly grab my boxers and throw them on.

She smiles, leaning back against the headboard, her eyes still sleepy but warm and flirty. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I stand, grabbing the rest of my clothes off the floor, and pause for a second before heading to the door. One last glance at her, still sitting there, hair messy, face flushed from sleep. She looks amazing. All I want to do is climb back in with her and relieve my morning needs.

I swallow, my mind flashing back again to last night. The way she felt under my hands, the way she kissed me like she couldn’t get enough. I feel a pang in my chest, something I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t plan on this—whatever this is.

With a quiet breath, I slip out of her room and head next door to mine. But even as I close the door behind me, she’s still there, lingering in my thoughts.

I step into the quiet, deserted hall and run a hand through my hair as I head toward my room. My mind is still reeling from everything. Was this a mistake? We’ve crossed the proverbial line. Twice.

I tell myself it’s fine. We’ll go to the meeting, crush the pitch, and then we’ll head home for Christmas. Separate flights, separate lives. We won’t even have to look back.

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