Page 49 of Growing Into Love

I keep my eyes focused on the door to the loo and hold my breath until I’m safely inside. I lean back against the door and close my eyes. There’s a knot in my throat and my heart pumps frantically. I glance at the bulge in my jeans. I need to calm the fuck down. I can’t get in bed beside Cass with a boner.

I look at myself in the mirror, desire and panic etched across my face.

Deep breaths. Think about something else. Anything besides Cass’s legs, or her plump little mouth, or those pert breasts, or—okay, that’s not working. I try to think about latest Liverpool match, then how to properly file an alpaca’s teeth. After a few moments, my body starts to quiet itself. I brush my teeth and wash my face, then strip down to my drawers and T-shirt. This is going to be uncomfortable. I hate wearing clothes when I sleep. They’re so confining.

I give myself one final look in the mirror. The bulge of my crotch is still noticeable. But what’s the alternative? Wear jeans to bed?

I take one final breath and hope Cass has already picked a side so at least I can run straight to the bed and get under the covers. I imagine her telling David that her substitute trainer not only has to share a bed with her, but he had a massive erection to boot. No thank you.

I open the door, relieved to see the right-hand side covers pulled down and a book on the nightstand. Cass is putting her things away in the closet.

“The loo is all yours,” I say, hurling myself under the covers then trying to act as if that’s the way I always get in bed—like a fucking Olympic diver.

“Thanks,” Cass says. She grabs some clothes and once the door closes, I let out a long breath. Okay. I’ve made it. My runaway dick seems more under control now that it’s beneath a blanket. The bed still feels too small even though logically, I know it’s a queen.

I glance at the book on the nightstand. It’sThe Fellowship of the Ring.That’s one of her mum’s books—I know she named Gal after the elf queen because her mum loved that character. Dec told me once that Sarah used to mark up all her favorite books. That was one of the very few times he mentioned his mum. No one ever talks about her in that house, except May.

I almost reach out to thumb through it but then realize that would be rude. I’m not going to poke around in Cass’s precious mementos. I pick up my phone. I still haven’t replied to Theresa but it’s not as if I’m going to do that now. This is the longest I’ve gone without responding to her when she’s asked. I toss my phone on the nightstand and feel a pinch of satisfaction. She always keeps me dangling—she can dangle herself for a while.

I lean back against the pillows and feel the jetlag begin to take over, my eyes growing heavy. The pillows are plush and the mattress feels like a cloud.

Then the door to the loo opens.

Suddenly, I’m violently awake. Cass is wearing a pair of old trackies and a worn tee with a print of Winnie the Pooh and the wordsZero Bothers Givenon it. Her hair is damp and clings to her neck in places. She’s very clearly not wearing a bra—of course not, why would she, it’s bedtime for god’s sake. But the sight of her nipples, hard against the soft fabric of her tee, makes my heart pound. It’s far sexier than the negligee I was imagining, probably because it’s so utterly Cass.

She’s looking at me in a way that makes the backs of my thighs go tight. I’m afraid I’m about to get hard again. I grab the telly remote and start flipping through the channels like I’m searching for the lost treasure of El Dorado.

Cass pads over to her side of the bed. She sits and I hear the sound of her trackies swooshing off and then she slips gingerly beneath the covers.

“Did you want to watch something?” she asks.

“No,” I say, turning the telly off.

I can feel the heat of her body and catch the briefest glimpse of one long, alabaster leg as she adjusts the covers. Her knee is crooked out slightly. I want to touch the softness of her inner thigh.

I raise the comforter nearly to my chin, putting all temptation out of sight. We’re so close. She scoots down and her leg bumps mine. It sends sparks running over my skin.

“Sorry!” she cries.

“No, I’m sorry,” I say.

She grins sheepishly. “I’ve got really long legs.”

As if I hadn’t noticed.

“It’s fine,” I say.

“Okay. Well. Night, Jaz.”

“Night, Cass.”

I switch off the light and darkness envelops us. In the quiet of the room, all I can hear is the sound of her breathing, mixed with the thrumming of my heart. I wonder if she can hear that too. There’s a rustle from the other side of the bed as she turns on her side. I keep absolutely still, like she’s a T-Rex and if I don’t move, she won’t see me. Don’t know why I’m so scared. Cass isn’t going to eat me.

I rather wish she would.

Stop that, Jasar.

Of course I’m scared. I’m in America, with my best mate’s sister whom I recently realized is bloody gorgeous. Now I can’t stop thinking about all the things I’d like to do to her in this bed. Cass shifts again and a thousand prickles run over my scalp and down my shoulders. I’ve never been so painfully aware of another person in my life.

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