Page 24 of Chasing Stars
“I appreciate that,” Miles says, looking slightly relieved. He eats his last taco in two huge bites before getting up and putting his plate in the dishwasher. “I am going to set up the air mattress… Like I said before, you can have my bed.”
“Okay.” I don’t argue—there isn’t anything else to say. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Rejected still, of course, but also, maybe a little hopeful. What if I’m the girl who changes Miles?
Don’t be foolish, Jenna.
Miles heads into the living room to set up the air mattress. The pump starts, then stops, then restarts again. After the third time, I hop off my stool, put my plate in the dishwasher just as Miles did, and go investigate.
“What’s going on?” I ask, peering into the living room, raising my eyebrows.
“It’s not inflating,” Miles huffs. “There must be a hole somewhere.”
I move further into the room, my brow furrowed. “Well, come on, let’s flip it over and see if we can find it.” I move to one end and flip my side over to find a two-inch gash on the bottom. “That was easy,” I announce.
Miles walks over to examine it. “Jack, that asshole. I let him borrow it for his hunting trip. He probably knew it had a hole in it when he gave it back,” Miles grumbles.
“Do you have any patches? Or duct tape?” I ask, tapping my chin.
“Duct tape? No. I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Miles rolls up the air mattress with a tight breath, a flicker of annoyance in the crease of his brow, but he shakes it off just as fast.
“Miles, you can’t be serious. You’re like six feet tall. You’ll have to sleep in the fetal position,” I scoff.
“I’m six-foot-two actually.” He snickers. “I’ll be fine.”
“No. Let me sleep on the couch. I’ll fit better,” I insist, putting my hands on my hips.
“No. No way. The light coming in from the sliding glass door will wake you up at dawn.” Miles perches on the arm of the couch, refusing to let me win.
We’re both quiet for a minute. I hesitate to suggest it, but I know he certainly won’t. “Miles,” my voice squeaks. “Your bed is pretty big… We could put a pillow between us.”
Miles studies me for what feels like an eternity before answering. “You’d be okay with that? After everything I just told you?”
I shake my head. “Yes. I told you I appreciate your honesty.” I don’t have to worry about him putting his hands on me,unfortunately.And I hate how much that disappoints me.
“Okay. That’ll work,” Miles agrees.
Thirty minutes later, we settle on opposite sides of his king-size bed, a large body pillow between us. Miles glances over. “You good?” he asks.
I nod and force a tight smile. “Yep. I’m good.”
“Good.” Miles exhales. He reaches over and turns out the light on his bedside table. “Night.”
“Good night, Miles,” I say quietly. I try to sleep but I toss and turn. I can’t remember the last time I shared a bed with a man.How sad is that? Thirty-five and celibate.If Miles is awake, he doesn’t let on. It seems like he’s sleeping peacefully.Typical man.Eventually, I must drift off, but it’s one of those restless sleeps where I feel awake every hour. I’m not even surprised when morning comes—my anxiety wakes me up first.
I am, however, surprised to find that I’m in Miles’s arms, a soft snore emanating from his peaceful slumber. His legs are intertwined with mine, his arm draped over the curve of my waist, his breath hot against my neck. And somethings poking me. Desire blossoms in my belly as his body molds against mine. I know I’m playing with fire, but I scoot closer, savoring the press of his body against me. Just for a few moments—before he wakes, or before I come to my senses and extricate myself from his grasp.
I am in so much trouble.
12
MILES
I’m already awake when Jenna inches her ass closer to my morning wood. At the risk of seeming like a perv, I pretend to sleep, so I can enjoy the feeling of Jenna pressing up against me for a few minutes. Her body is warm against mine, and she smells like coconut shampoo and clean laundry. Her hair tickles my face, but I don’t dare move.
My heart is pounding in my chest. I shift forward, and Jenna lets out the faintest sigh.She wants this. It would be so easy for me to let my fingers graze over her stomach or down her thigh—to turn this from an accidental cuddle to something with purpose. The alarm bells ringing in my head keep me from doing that though. The safest option is pretending to sleep. Then I don’t have to apologize for the very obvious situation poking her either.
The minutes slip by too quickly before Jenna peeks back at me, gently lifting my arm off her waist and tiptoeing out of the room. I wait until I hear the soft click of the bathroom door before I drag myself out of bed. I adjust myself, careful not to remind Jenna that my dick woke her up, then throw on somedeodorant and a clean T-shirt. I run my fingers through my hair and pad into the kitchen to start the coffee.
I’m sipping a hot mug of coffee and looking out the sliding glass door when Jenna finally appears at my side. “Good morning.” She smiles at me.
