Page 61 of Snap Shot

I stand and offer her my open hand. “I'll walk you back to our room.”

A sarcastic smile lies crooked on her face, dimpling one cheek. My heart pitter-patters. “You meanmyroom. You're the squatter.”

Her hand slots into mine as I help pry her from the cushions, and though the hold only lasted for a few seconds, I wish I hadn't let go.

We separate in the suite once more, rustling through changing clothes, water running as we brush and prepare for bed. One source of tension releases and gives way for another. My arm drapes over my eyes as I beg for sleep. An hour goes by.

“Landon?” Indi calls from behind the double doors of the bedroom.

I hum out a reply.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Okay. Never mind.”

I roll to my side. “Do you need something?”

“Nah.” Her sheets swish as she tosses and turns before we quiet again. “Landon?”

“Yeah?”

“I feel bad you're sleeping on the couch again.”

I drop my arm and sigh out, ready to tell her it's okay when she shocks me with a question.

“Do you wanna sleep in the bed?”

With her? Fuck yes, I do. I kick off the sheet and jump to the door barring me from her. My hand wraps around the handle, turning it to peek in. Indi blushes next to the king-size bed, backlit by the lamp on the nightstand. Her pajama shorts frou-frou around her shifting legs. She toys with the loose, flimsy tank top covering her slender torso, thread-like straps hanging over the angled collar bones I'm suddenly dying to kiss. I gulp.

“You sure?” My voice takes a coarse form, too hoarse to be conspicuous.

“If you're okay with it. We're adults.”

I bite the inside of my lower lip, muting a whimper. “Yep. Adults.” Two steps and I'm at the foot of the bed, admiring how her teeth catch on that ample lower lip. I could die a happy man. “Does this mean I'm off your shit list?”

“Don't push it. But look” —she points to the pillows dividing the mattress— “it’ll be fine.”

“Right.” I clear my throat. “Totally fine.” I have control. I have restraint.

Indi slinks under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. I climb in from the side, lying on my stomach and curling my arms around a fluffy pillow. The sheets are clean, crisp, and smell like her. My cock thrashes. Stop it. Stop it right now.

Screwing my eyes shut, I imagine things that happen in bed that don't include fucking. Murder. Bed bugs. Birth. Farts.

“Psst. Where's your shirt?”

I squint through a single eye at Indi's unimpressed, rapid blinking, then smirk and shrug. “Lost it.”

“Likely story.” She snorts.

How is she so goddamn cute?

“It's a normal thing people do, Indi. I get sweaty. I don't wear one to sleep.”

“Uh-huh,” she says through another yawn. “Sure, yeah, normal. How would you feel if I was lying here without a shirt?” She's trying to kill me.

“Uncomfortable.” I mumble and groan into the pillow, squirming against the mattress more to rid myself of this ridiculous hard-on. Thank fuck for that pillow wall.“Painfully uncomfortable.” In my crotch. Stuffing my face into the pillow again doesn't seem to deter Indi.

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