Page 29 of When We Meet Again

It all started when I saw her in my shirt the night we went dancing.Myshirt. Before that, I was fine. Any feelings I’d had were kept at bay. I was fine. It was all fine. Then she wore that damn suede tank at the bar, pushing her chest against me while we danced. Not that I’d particularly kept her at bay, pulling her close to me every opportunity I could… But my fate was sealed when she’d jumped on my motorcycle looking like a goddamned angel, long blonde hair resting in front of her shoulders with the sun beaming from behind.Fuck. Me.

Then when Emily came out and said Waverly needed a minute to “de-stress.” Thoughts whirred around, imagining what exactly Waverly was doing to de-stress. I know howItend to de-stress, and it has a lot to do with having my dick in my hand. Pulling back, trying to tame the thoughts before I get hard again, I run my hands through my hair, tugging at my roots. I’ve been finding it harder and harder to keep it together when Waverly’s around. Pondering up images of what she’d look like, head back in ecstasy while my fingers are between her legs. I’m only human. Rubbing one out in the shower needed to be done before I snapped. I was two seconds away from busting in the bathroom door, throwing Waverly over my shoulder, and havingmy way with her. And that would have ruined everything; this friendship we’ve re-built, her growing confidence.

I wouldn’t do it. Icouldn’tdo it. I’m not sure if she even feels that way about me. You know, her being with my brother and all.Ugh. I just jacked it to my dead brother's fiancée.

When I get out of the shower, I grab the towel and hurry to get dressed so I can find the woman who has crawled in the little space I have in my heart and buried herself. It was neverjust a crush.

I leave the bedroom to find Waverly curled up on the couch in the cabin, indulging in a book. Part of me was hoping she’d catch me showering. Maybe even imagining her asking to join me in the shower, me running my hands all over her wet, slippery body.God, I might need another shower…

“Roman!” She looks up at me, her cheeks pink. Maybe she’s reading that ‘romance’ book I’d found at her place. I’d turned right to the dog-eared page right as “Jace buried his head between the girl’s legs.” I’d be flustered, too.

“I…uhh…” She clears her throat. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I took a nap.”

I look at my watch. “You don’t have to ask to take a nap. You can have the bed. We still have a bit of time before we land to refuel.”

“Thank you.” Waverly stands and lays her book on the table and prances to the door I just came out of. She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “If you get bored, let me know.” A smirk slides across her lips.

Is she flirting with me?

There’s no way. She’s been pretty steady through the past month. We’re friends. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’ve been friend zoned. But the look she just gave me? I know I’m a little younger than she is, but I know flirting when I see it.

The door softly closes behind her and I take a seat. I pull at my hair, releasing new tension in my scalp.

“What the hell was that?” I ask myself.

“Sir? May I?” Emily asks to sit next to me. “If I may say, I love your…Waverly.”

“Yeah, I…” Maybe I don’tloveher, but there’s something that wasn’t there before. “I agree. She’s great.” I wait a moment before asking, “Was everything okay in the bathroom?”

“Oh, yes,” she lets out a soft chuckle. “My sister—I imagine she’d be a lot like Waverly.” I know about Emily’s estranged twin. Right before Patrick died, I was in touch with a P.I. who’d promised he could find her, but everything was put on pause after the tsunami. Maybe it’s time to hit the play button again. Everyone deserves to know their truth.

“Mr. Hux—Roman… I hope you don’t mind me saying,” Emily shifts uncomfortably in her seat, “If there’s a chance…I mean, if anything is there with Miss—Waverly, you should jump at it.” I blush, and then blush harder as she continues, “Don’t forget I’ve been to most of your family's parties. I’ve seen you with other girls. You never looked at them the way you look at her.”

Color me intrigued. “How do I look at her?” I absentmindedly pick up the book Waverly was reading and start fanning the pages.

“Like she’s the sun,” Emily says nothing more but gets up and walks back to the cockpit, leaving me to my thoughts. Which I can’t take anymore because the last ‘thoughts’ had me jacking myself in the shower to visions of her.

I waste no more time before I get up and head to the bedroom. I have no idea what my plan is, but I realize that sometimes it’s best to go headfirst without a plan. Time to just go with the flow, consequences be damned.

I openthe door to find her fast asleep on the right side of the bed.Myside of the bed. Usually, I’d shove a woman over if they dared lay on my side—not the most gentlemanly, I’ll admit—but Waverly looked tired. The least I could do is let her sleep.

To lie or not to lie?

Screw it.

I pull the fluffy duvet down on the left side and kick off my shoes. This is the exact reason I wear sweatpants to travel. Nobody in their right mind wants to sleep in jeans; if they do, they should be admitted.I don’t have a plan about what comes next, though. Do I wake her or not? So I just lie still thinking about the next course of action. Guess my body makes the decision for me because, instead, I fall fast asleep.

A little while later I’m awakened by the captain asking us to prepare for landing. I go to roll out of bed, but I can’t. I’m weighed down by a leg and an arm. I forgot who was next to me for a split second. In a slight panic, I glance down at the face that's nuzzled against my chest. That’s right. I’m cuddling with Waverly Kensington. Well, she’s cuddling with me.

This whole situation is new for me. One, I don’t cuddle. Two, if I was to cuddle, I’d be the big spoon. But three, I never have women stay over to allow them the opportunity to cuddle. I tap her twice on her shoulder and she lets out a small moan, which of course, travels straight to my groin. Great.

“Kensi, wake up. We’re landing.”

I thought she’d roll over to allow us both to get up, but no. She instead arches into me, and I feel the heat between her legs against my thigh.That’s it. I have to move.Now.

I almost violently roll out from under her death grip. “Okay,” I quickly groan, sliding my shoes back on and keeping my back to her so she can’t see her effect on my lower half. I bend over to pick up my t-shirt. At some point during the best nap of my life, I took it off.

Waverly must finally realize what she was doing because her eyes pop open and a look of horror crosses her face. “I’msosorry.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, wipes the drool from her chin, and I laugh. She’s cute when she gets flustered.

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