Page 76 of The Savior

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Shivering, Chelsea blindly searched for her covers but found nothing but coarse fabric. Half of her body tingled with a chill, but the other half seemed too hot. Her cheek didn’t want to move, and she pried an eye open and was surprised by the brightness.

The lights were on. But more importantly, her face was stuck against a man’s chest. Her eyes flew open even as the rest of her froze, then the night came crashing back to mind.

She was naked and tangled. Liam lightly snored, his arm and leg hanging off the side of her couch.

Chelsea considered his precarious angle and how sleep had somehow sewed them together, and came up with no solutions on how to get off the couch without him falling—or at the very least, waking.

Oh God. What have we done?

Now wide awake as if she had mainlined a Red Bull, Chelsea assessed her current predicament, having decided there wasn’t any way she could escape and hide as though their night had never happened.

She unwound their legs with the attention she might take on dismantling a bomb and propped on her elbow at a snail’s speed.

He stirred, not waking, and she took that moment to roll—but failed.Fudgsicles.

Liam had flipped his arm across her back and, as if he had absolutely no idea who was naked in his arms, repositioned them so that he was the big spoon and she was the panicking little one.

His snores stopped, but a steady, warm breath tickled the back of her neck, and he squeezed her bare stomach. The distinct, unmistakable thickness of his erection pressed against her backside, and if she ever wanted to live down this day, she had to escape and evade his morning wood while he slept.

His fingers brushed her stomach, making her tingle. Logic wanted her to run away, but apparently her libido thought it was the perfect time to recall their absurd, uncontrolled throes on her couch.

Shehadto move. Chelsea nimbly rolled out of his hold and thudded on the floor.

Cheese and crackers, she hadn’t meant to be so loud.

Liam’s rhythmic breathing stalled, and even as she lay on the floor, wishing to blend into the carpet, she knew he had awakened.

Chelsea cringed, and she couldn’t move, even though the slightest sound of him repositioning on the cushions seemed as loud as a warning alarm.

His sleep-sated chuckle was a preamble to a quick clearing of his throat. “You fall off the couch?”

At least her front was covered, even if that meant her bare backside was front and center between the couch and the coffee table.

“Power’s back on,” she offered.

He reached over her and pulled the tall glass candle jar to the edge and blew it out.

Oh, this is why people avoid one-night stands and friends with benefits. Right? What does one say to the other?Except they had been deliberateandout of control. They hadn’t set up hookup rules and didn’t have the saving grace of never seeing each other again.

“You know what?”

His rough, quiet voice made her recall the sexy words she’d gone to sleep listening to like a lullaby.

“I’m not sure I want to know,” she finally muttered.

He gave a full-out belly laugh. “You’ve got a really cute ass.”

“What?”

“That’s what I was going to say.” He pushed to the far end of the couch and stood. Her clothes dropped over her butt. “I’m going to hit the head.”

Okay, I can die now.But not before she dressed then checked on the remaining candles.

The tea lights had burned themselves out, and the remaining decorative candle had burned nearly to the bottom.

After blowing it out, she dressed and had nothing left to do but wait and face this head-on like an adult. Being an adult had sucked a lot lately.

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