Page 110 of The Plus One Contract

I linger anyway, because he looks so…soft. Like the weight he constantly carries has finally lifted. He looks younger without that hard edge.

My heart clenches in a way I don’t understand.

“Don’t be creepy and watch me sleep, Sienna.”

I jump, hand flying to my chest.

His voice is thick with drowsiness, muffled from where his arm still rests over his eyes.

“Or at least warn me first.”

“Jesus, Nathan. Ever heard of playing dead?”

He shifts slightly, stretching so his muscles flex. “I tried, but I think even in death those eyes would find me.”

I roll said eyes, folding my arms over my chest. In the faint glow, he finally drags his hand down to see me better.

“I can’t sleep,” I finally admit like a petulant child, and before he can respond, I climb his body, finally resting on his chest.

He groans. “This is not normal.”

“What isn’t?” I shoot back, struggling to keep my voice steady.

He gestures vaguely between us. “You and me. This. It’s crossing a line.”

A dozen protests flutter in my chest, but I settle on a smirk. “You’ve already kissed me,” I remind him in a low murmur, ignoring the swirl of heat that memory evokes. “And…other things.” My cheeks burn. “Besides, I never got my post-sex cuddles. I’m cashing in.”

He exhales, but his arm loops around me, pulling me snugly against his side. My stomach twists with nerves. We lie there in tense silence for a few minutes, breathing evening out. The tension drains from my body, replaced by a sleepy warmth.

Nathan eventually shifts beneath me, enough that I can’t fully settle. His grip tightens as he tugs me into his arms, standing from the couch and taking me with him. I yelp, fumbling to cling to his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“You have an entire bed, woman,” he mutters, heading into the bedroom. “If you insist on clinging to me like a spider monkey, I’d prefer we have actual space.”

I gape at him, half-laughing, half-scandalized as he sets me on the mattress. “Oh, well, thanks for the courtesy ride, I guess.”

He hesitates a beat before climbing in beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. My pulse stutters. We’re in the same bed, no couch buffer, no doors in between us.

The room is silent, but my head doesn’t spin with anxiety. The tension in my shoulders melts away. Because right now, I’m warm, I’m safe, and I’m not alone.

I close my eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of him. We might be crossing every line we drew, but I’m too tired to resist. He’s here, and for tonight, I let that be enough.

Tomorrow, I can freak out all over again.

Forty

Nathan

The morning air is still, the golden glow of early sunlight seeping through the heavy curtains, stretching lazy shadows across the floor. Everything is quiet. Too quiet.

I shouldn’t have let her pull me into that bed last night.

But I did.

And now, standing by the window, coffee in hand, watching the resort wake up below, I know this is dangerous.

Too easy.

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