Page 115 of Between the Lines

There’s a faint buzzing. It cuts through my head like an arrow. A particularly annoying one, even if it’s familiar. I keep my eyes closed and reach for the nightstand. Grip my phone and press down on the button that will shut it the hell off.

I was having such a good dream.

I’m also lying on my back in a bed that’s far too soft. I feel like I’m drowning in it, cocooned like in a hammock, it’s swallowing me whole. There’s also a warm weight draped over me. My left arm is around someone.

Someone.

Charlotte.

Her leg is on top of mine, and I reach down with my free hand to find the crook of her knee. Her head is a weight on my chest, lifting gently with each one of my breaths. I hear the soft wafts of her own exhales.

I look down at the top of Charlotte’s head, and her silky hair spread out over me. She’d fallen asleep first last night. I remember that. Her eyelids shutting, her hand wrapped in mine. I moved her laptop off the bed and then settled beside her with a book.

I hadn’t planned on falling asleep, too.

But I must have… and here she is, clinging to me like I’m her favorite pillow.

She smells good. Draped over me, her body soft in sleep.

And I’m hard.

It’s been a while since I’ve woken up hard. It’s usually not much of a problem. A quick cold shower solved it; or a longer, warmer one and the aid of my right hand.

Now there’s a dull, throbbing weight between my legs, rising up beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs. The zipper of the slacks is uncomfortable.

I’d much, much rather have slept in the same bed as her without our clothes. Under the comforter.

Rubbing circles over her knee, I take a few deep breaths. I need to get back to work. The rumors haven’t died down yet, and I’ve scheduled several interviews today with news outlets. Somehow, I have to be coherent for them.

She mumbles something against my chest. Her hand tightens by my waist, as if I’m a body pillow she’s hugging.

I run a hand down her back. “You’re talking?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nuzzles against my chest, her nose brushing the open V where several of my shirt buttons are undone. “Good.”

I smile. “Good?”

“So… annoying,” she mumbles and then sighs deeply.

I smile. That can only be about one person.

I didn’t know she spoke in her sleep.

My phone rings again. It’s an alarm in the form of Eric, and I reach over to shut it the hell off. It’s a Saturday. But that’s never stopped him or me before.

This time, Charlotte stirs against me. Her arm tightens, and her leg shifts. Her knee brushes over my erection and I bite out a hiss. Fuck, that is not abating.

She blinks at me. Her skin is rosy with sleep, her lips parted. “Aiden?”

“Good morning.”

Her eyes close briefly. “Ugh. It’s too early.”

“Yeah, we didn’t get many hours.”

“Not enough.” She rests her forehead against my chest, and a weak laugh escapes her. “I can’t believe we fell asleep.”

My hand keeps moving in long sweeps over her back. “You were tired.”

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