Page 60 of What If I Hate You
"Cold?" I ask, already shifting to bring her closer.
"A little," she admits. "Kitchen floors aren't exactly designed for post-sex cuddling."
I laugh and sit up, pulling her with me. "Come on. Let me take care of you."
I scoop her into my arms, her body feeling impossibly light against my chest as I carry her toward the bathroom. She nestles against me, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin.
"I can walk, you know," she protests, but there's no conviction behind it.
"Maybe. But I like carrying you." I kiss the top of her head. "Plus, I did promise to ruin your ability to walk tomorrow, didn't I?"
She lets out a startled laugh, bright and real, and I realize I've never heard that sound from her before. It does something to my chest—makes it feel both lighter and heavier at the same time. "That you did. And I'd say mission accomplished."
In the bathroom, I set her gently on the counter and turn to start the shower. As steam begins to fill the room, I look back at her, this beautiful, fierce woman perched on my bathroom counter, covered in marks of passion, her hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. The sight of her hits me square in the chest with a feeling I'm not ready to name.
"What?" she asks, catching me staring again.
I move between her legs, cupping her face in my hands. "Nothing. Just… this is better than I imagined."
"You imagined this a lot, huh?" She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer.
"More than I should admit."
"Every surface?" she asks, a wicked glint in her eyes.
"Every. Fucking. Surface." I punctuate each word with a kiss along her jaw. "Starting with the shower."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BLAKELY
It’s warm in here.
Not the kind from sunlight or blankets, but from a body. One that is solid, steady, and tangled around mine like we’re not two people who spent months trying to verbally annihilate each other every time we were in the same room.
Barrett’s arm is slung low over my waist. His hand, calloused and big, rests possessively on my bare hip. I can feel his breath at the back of my neck, slow and even.
And for a second—just one traitorous, terrifying second—I don’t want to move.
I let my eyes flutter open. His bedroom is dim, curtains drawn against the morning light, and there’s the faint, distant sound of purring. Killer, probably. As if the night wasn’t already absurd enough, now I’ve shared a floor with the sweetest little kitten and a man who made me come several times in the span of a single hour.
What evenismy life?
I spot my phone on the nightstand next to me and internally thank Bear for putting it there. Reaching out my arm, I pull it toward me enough so that I can grab it and check my messages.A few random work-related emails from my boss but then I find a text from Marlee.
Marlee
GIRL. You disappeared after the game. Where did you go? Are you okay? I was worried after what that Mercer asshole said to you but then I didn’t hear from you.
I bite my lip, debating how much to share. If I tell Marlee where I am, there's no taking it back. She'll have questions. Lots of them. But she's also been my rock through everything in this job, and I've never lied to her before.
I glance over my shoulder at Bear's sleeping form, his chest rising and falling steadily. He looks younger like this, the permanent scowl erased by sleep.
Me
I'm fine.
The typing dots appear immediately.
