Page 34 of Sully

“I guess that depends on interpretation. I prefer Monet.”

“Miss Monet, you are then,” he declared.

“You can totally go and wash it off now if you want.”

Sully ignored that.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked instead.

“Better,” I admitted. There wasn’t a trace of the panic left. In its place, though, was something else that I dared not even acknowledge. Especially when Sully was around. I’d been told far too many times that I wore all of my feelings on my face. The last thing I wanted was for Sully to know about the unexpected ache between my thighs, the way I was finding it really hard to keep my gaze on his face now that he was up off the bed.

Oh, he had those little indents of muscles that led right toward his…

Nope.

No.

I was not going to follow those lines. And I certainly wasn’t going to wonder about what they might be directing me toward.

“Sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“You kidding? I was bored off my ass. This was a welcome distraction. You want more company, or you want me to get my ass out of here?”

“I wouldn’t mind company.”

“Movie night?” he asked, sounding excited. And I was reasonably sure he wasn’t faking it either. “Snacks included?”

I’d never agreed to something so fast in my life.

Not because of the snacks or the movie.

But because of the company.

To my utter delight, after acquiring the ‘mandatory’ snacks that included popcorn, chips, candy, snack cakes, and drinks, Sully simply walked up the bed from the bottom—still gloriously shirtless—and sat against the headboard with me.

I sat there snacking and listening to his running monologue about the best movies in each genre until he, finally, chose someobscure movie from the ‘80s that he swore was going to ‘change my life.’

I didn’t care about the movie.

I was too enraptured by the company.

And the fact that he wanted to spend his time with me.

One movie turned into two.

But before the second could even get to the good parts, I was out cold.

For the first time in a really long time, it was a deep and dreamless sleep.

I was out so cold, in fact, that I was almost certain I was dreaming when, sometime later, the pattering of water on the shower floor gently pulled me back toward consciousness.

My mind was slow and thick enough that I was confused by my surroundings for a long moment.

Until a figure moved into my line of vision.

Sully stepped out of the now silent bathroom with nothing but a low-slung towel on and bunched-up clothes in his free hand.

He stopped at his closet, tossing the dirty clothes in a hamper. Then, without any hesitation, he grabbed the towel tuck and whipped it off.

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