Page 86 of The Off-Limits Play

He nods, arranging the pillow under my leg yet again. “You sure this is okay?”

“Yes. Stop fussing.”

With a soft snort, he takes a seat on the bed beside me.

“You gonna sleep now too?” I pull the hoodie he gave me over my chest. It’s kinda sweet that he doesn’t want me getting cold.

“Here.” He helps me lean forward and wraps the second hoodie around me. “I’m too wired to sleep. I’m gonna go downstairs and watch a movie.”

“Without me?” I growl. “You are so not doing that.”

His eyebrows jump up in surprise. “Oh really? Now who’s being bossy.”

“Get your butt on the other side of this bed. If you want to watch a movie, we can do it on your laptop.” I give him a heated glare, shaking my head. “Living room, my ass. I can’t believe you were thinking of leaving me all alone up here.”

“I’m trying to look after you,” he hisses.

“And I’m trying to tell you how,” I hiss right back, not wanting to disturb the sleeping members of the house.

“You are such a pain in the ass,” he mutters, striding over to his desk and grabbing his laptop.

I grin at him, growing my smile to pure cheese as he takes a seat beside me.

His lips twitch, and I swear he’s gonna lose that battle with his smile any second now.

“You think I’m adorable.” I nestle my head on his shoulder as he pulls up a folder of movies. I point toThe Fugitive. I’ve already seen it like five times, and I have Tommy Lee Jones’s “every henhouse, outhouse, and doghouse” speech memorized. If I fall asleep while I’m watching, I won’t feel like I’ve missed anything.

Carson clicks Play, brushing his lips across my forehead before settling back against his pillows. His arm comes around me and I wriggle closer against his side, getting comfortable and discovering a new level of bliss I didn’t even know existed. My eyes flutter closed, and I drift off to sleep just as Harrison Ford is jumping from the dam.

What feels like five minutes later, I wake up on my side. My eyes creep open, and I spot the daylight. It’s not super bright, which means the weather hasn’t improved much since last night. Stupid rain. I’d rather it snowed. Give me a blizzard over lightning and thunder.

Snuggling down a little deeper under the covers, I can’t help a smile as my memory takes me back to the bliss of falling asleep against Carson’s chest.

He obviously moved me later in the night and covered me with this delicious duvet. It’s so thick and warm. I think I’m just gonna stay here for the rest of the day.

“Wanna just have a bed day,” I mumble softly so I don’t wake him up.

There’s no reply and I go completely still, listening for his breathing. It doesn’t take me long to realize that there is none, and I carefully roll over to find his side of the bed empty.

“Poop,” I mutter, sitting up and looking around the room.

I have no idea where he’s gone, but I want him back. I’d like him to play pillow while I spend the day in his bed watching movies… and maybe persuading him to do other stuff.

Heat thrums through me, a smirk tugging at my lips when I hear his voice in my head again…“I want to do shit to that gorgeous body of yours.”

My smile grows a little wider and I stretch out my leg, testing to see how bad I’ll be limping today. It’s not very happy with me. Flinging back the covers, I pull up the sweatpants, checking for swelling. Thankfully, it’s minimal.

Tracing my finger along the ugly scars across my knee and up my thigh, I wince and wonder if I’ll even have the courage to get naked with Carson so he can do shit with me. Maybe we can do it in the dark. Or we can go for half-dressed sex. That’ll work, right? He doesn’t need to see my legs to enjoy my body. And I know I’m gonna enjoy whatever parts of his body he’s willing to share with me.

A floorboard creaks outside the door, and I scramble to get my pant leg down, desperately trying to hide my scars as the door eases open.

I flop back against the pillows, trying to act casual and then grinning when I notice a pair of big blue eyes staring at me.

“Hi, Zoey.” I wave at her.

She pokes her head into the room. “Cawson?”

“I’m not sure where he is.” I give her an exaggerated shrug.

---