Chapter 25
Saturday morning seemedto come in the blink of an eye. Fe rolled out of bed, turned off her alarm clock, and wiped both hands over her face. Dread filled her from the inside out, but she pried herself from her blankets, and dragged on her robe.
When she walked out into the hall again, Colton was asleep on the couch, which was all that she’d seen of him for the past week. Work seemed to be bringing him home after sunrise, and taking him again before she got back from work in the afternoons. Tiptoeing her way to Elliot’s bedroom, she gently tapped on his door. “Elliot, it’s me.” she whispered.” It’s time to get up.”
After a couple minutes with no response, she cracked open the door and let herself in. Elliot was fast asleep. His shirt off, with a mess of blankets tangled around his hips and thighs. His hair was messy, and standing in all different directions, but he looked peaceful, and…sexy. By God he looked sexy.
Her eyes trailed down his body. To the tattoo on his left shoulder, and arms that were thick with muscles and definition. His chest wasn’t bad either. Broad and manly, abs that were the perfect mixture of soft and hard.
Elliot groaned in his sleep, stretching in a way that made his blankets shift downward and make her realize that maybe she shouldn’t be in here.
Fe, turned toward the door, keeping her eyes clamped shut, and tried to wake him. “Uhh-Hmmm.”
Still no response.
She glanced over her shoulder, seeing his manly bits covered, then gingerly sat on the side of the bed. She shoved his pillow. “Elliot. You have to get up.”
No response.
“It’s eight am.”
Nothing.
She inched a little closer, knowing they had a three-hour drive ahead of them. If they were going to make it, they had to get moving. “Elliot,” she said a little bit louder. “Wake up.” She pushed firmly at his shoulder, when all of a sudden, he flipped to his stomach, throwing one arm over her and pinning her to the mattress.
She froze, but then she started to giggle. Elliot had always been a deep sleeper, but this was ridiculous. It was also extremely uncomfortable. She tried to ease from under his arm without waking him, because this was not the way she’d planned to wake him. Somehow, in the midst of being tackled by his sleeping body, she got stuck in a position that was halfway between sitting and laying, and her neck has already beginning to sting.
She glanced down to his arm, debating her next move, but her eyes locked on his tattoo, and a rush of memory flooded her. All the redness had subsided at this point, leaving behind the bight vivid colors of the tree. She took a deep breath, remembering how supportive he’d been when she’d gotten her own. How he’d held her hand, how she’d fallen asleep in his arms, to then later, when he carried her to bed, and tucked her in to sleep.
His little iron woman. She wasn’t living up to that reputation though, because lately, she’s felt nowhere near strong.
Pinned to the mattress like this, under his warm skin, it was impossible not to remember how good it felt to be held by him. To pay attention to how warm his skin was next to hers, how good he smelled—
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
She stiffened, glancing over at his alarm that was practically screaming.
But instead of waking up like a normal person, Elliot only squeezed her tighter, pulled her closer, and groaned into her ribcage. She closed her eyes, both because it tickled like a mother, but also because she feared she might laugh and wake him up. That he’d find her like this. That—
The alarm grew louder, increasing in volume with each second, and she studied his face. A satisfied smile formed on his lips, and she wondered what he was dreaming about. Then all of a sudden, without any notice at all, his eyes sprung open, wide as a petri dish, and he jumped away from her, slapping the alarm off with his palm.
She pushed herself to sit, finally free of his death like grip, and stood from the bed. “I was just—you were—I tried…” But then she covered her mouth with her fingers, because his hair was standing up on end, and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. A maniacal giggle began to form in her throat and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You have got to be the deepest sleeper I’ve ever met I my life, Elliot Prescott!”
He rubbed over his face with his hand, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “I didn’t—I didn’t do anything did I—“
“Oh God no!” She frantically shook her head. “I was just trying to wake you, and you…you trapped me.” She shoved her hands in her back pockets, quickly realizing they weren’t there, and slid her hands awkwardly down the back of her thighs instead. “So ummm… I’m going to go get in the shower.” She slowly rose from the bed and backed toward the door. “I thought we’d leave at nine?”
He nodded his head, but a shy smile made his eyes twinkle. “Sounds good.”
She grabbed hold of the door handle, and began pulling the door shut. “I’ll just close this.”
He grinned “Good idea.”
“See you soon.”
He laughed. “See ya.”