Page 24 of Because of Me

AMIRA

The door clicks shut behind Noah, and the static hum of tension-laced silence fills the room. We stand, side by side at the foot of the bed. Unmoving. Unspeaking. Barely breathing.

My queen-sized bed suddenly looks tiny. I still remember the day I bought it. I’d just signed the lease for this place and was out shopping for the cheapest yet nicest furniture I could find. Prepared with measurements of every room, I scoured furniture outlets for the best bargain.

“Tell you what,” the salesman had said with a cheesy grin. “I’ll give you the King for the size of the Queen. That would be a bargain.”

He’d seen me eyeing off the wood-framed bed with hearts in my eyes. Thick rounded legs and an eccentric but classy headboard covered in floral carvings. I was in love, but the bed was almost twice as much as I’d been planning to spend. I knew if I got it, I would have to get the cheapest mattress on the market and spend less on every remaining piece of furniture. But for this bed, it was worth it.

I’d nearly taken him up on his offer, but after double-checking the measurements of the room decided it would be too much of a squeeze. Even considering this is the master bedroom of the apartment, it’s small. So, I’d resigned to not getting the bargain he was offering, but still splurging on the bed of my dreams.

Looking back, I’m wondering why I thought a little extra space around the bed was so important. Why did I think I’d need room for a dresser when I’m about to be fighting for roomin the bed.

Without a word, I move to the head of the bed and begin rearranging the pillows. I keep my favourite but fluff up the second-best one for Noah. In the middle of the bed, I lay the spare two pillows down the length of the bed.

“Are you building a wall?”

“Yes.” I don’t add it’s because I don’t trust myself not to gravitate towards him in my sleep. We spoke about where the line was with our physical contact, and waking up with my head pressed against his chest and my leg over his thigh is way past it.

Noah huffs, running a hand through his ever messy hair. “There will be no pillow wall Amira, we aren’t children.”

“Yes but—” I don’t know what I was going to rebut with, but Noah cuts me off before I have a chance to figure it out.

“No buts. Honestly, we’re both adults. We can share a bed without needing a fucking wall in between us. Plus, your bed is small enough as it is, I’m not letting a pillow take half the real estate on the mattress.” In two large steps he’s across the bed from me, pulling my barrier to the floor.

Crossing my arms over my chest I glare at Noah. “Are you always this bossy in the bedroom?”

I freeze, realising what I’ve said at the same time Noah does. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows and looks down at the mattress. With a sharp inhale, he plants his hands on the bed and looks up at me. “I can be. Go get changed.”

The words ‘yes’ and ‘sir’ are right there, on the tip of my tongue, but I manage to hold them in. I do as he says though, pausing at the dresser to pull out my baggiest tracksuit, and an old jumper.

I huff as I get changed in the tiny ensuite bathroom. My clothes feel heavy and warm, but I’m not ready to wear my usual pyjamas. The thin satin fabric does little to hide my figure. The shorts are … well, short. And the top leaves nothing to the imagination with its lacy straps. Considering Noah hasn’t seen me in anything other than long tops and pants or skirts that fall to my ankles, I can’t imagine walking out there in any of my tiny matching sets.

Again, it’s the weird moral ground holding me in place. Because if we were about to get naked, I’d have no issues. But we aren’t, so it’s weird. I stare at myself in the mirror for longer than needed, before shaking my head at my crossed wires and exiting the bathroom.

Noah has changed into a loose pair of boxers and sits on what has been dubbed his side of the bed with no shirt on.

And holy fuck.

Anyone with eyes could have guessed Noah is ripped. It’s clear in how he holds himself, how his shirts always cling to his back and shoulders, and how his sleeves are tight around his arms. But this, seeing it in the flesh …

I double take in the doorway, my mouth falling open.

I have to sleep next to him. And he refused a pillow wall. This is …fuck. It’s okay, it’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.

He chuckles to himself. “I can put a shirt on?”

I shake my head, still not trusting words. Pressing my lips together, I get into my side of the bed and wait for Noah to do the same before turning off the lamp.

Darkness consumes the room, but electricity still crackles between us. Briefly, I wonder if I left the heater on high even though I know it was too pleasant today for me to have turned it on in the first place. I’m tossing and turning, trying to alleviate the steady heat from my extra layers.

When I kick the blankets off in a huff, the cheap mattress dips as Noah rolls to face me.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, and I can feel his breath on my neck. We’re so close and even though I knew it, feeling it leaves my cheeks hot and my core heavy.

“I don’t normally wear so many layers to bed.”

“Do you want to take some off?”

---