Page 32 of Love, Academically
In essence, she was doing the world (and Rhys) a favour.
“Fine.” He sighed and moved to the other side of the bed, hesitating before undoing the buttons on his shirt. Bless him, Rhys was shy of her.
She made a show of taking a sip of water so he knew she wasn’t ogling him, because she wouldn’t want him ogling her if their positions were swapped. She did not, however, fail to notice the muscles in his back moving as he draped his shirt over the back of her dressing-table chair. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his phone on the bedside table.
“I need to be at work early. Can you please set an alarm, my phone is dying,” he said quietly.
“You can’t sleep in your trousers, Rhys,” she murmured. “I’ve got some really big fluffy pyjama bottoms if you want them?”
“No,” he said, obviously too tired to make any other comment.
Rhys stood, the trousers slid off and he folded them quickly over his shirt on the chair before practically diving into bed. Lila deliberately didn’t look at his dark boxers that highlighted the excellent curve of his arse, but she couldn’t help catching a glimpse. She was only human.
“Okay. Goodnight, Rhys.” Lila, finally satisfied, switched off the bedside light.
“Goodnight, Lila,” Rhys replied. “The alarm?”
“My alarm is set, Rhys,” Lila muttered. “Go to sleep.”
“Your bed is lumpy,” he grumbled, shifting his weight.
“It is not. You’re just so close to the edge if you took a deep breath you’d end up on the floor,” she said, turning on her side and putting a hand under her pillow.
The whole bed shook as Rhys shuffled further onto the bed with a huff.
“Are you happy now?”
“Are you comfy now?”
“Goodnight, Lila,” he snapped.
Lila smiled to herself, because she had won, and he was comfortable now.
“Goodnight, Rhys.”
It was nice, having another person’s weight on the other side of the bed, even if it was Rhys Aubrey. Lila’s eyes closed, and she drifted off listening to Rhys’s even, deep breaths.
Rhys
That had been the best night’s sleep Rhys had had for a verylong time. It didn’t hurt that he was so absolutely, desperately tired after waiting round all day at the hospital and then eating grease-laden fish and chips.
But he was surprised his alarm hadn’t gone off yet. Never mind, that meant he had a few more minutes. The bed was so comfortable, so vanilla-pod warm.
Rhys tightened his grip on—
Oh God.
His heart stuttered in embarrassment because he was wound like an octopus around Lila Cartwright.
Rhys’s arm was tucked around Lila’s waist, but that wasn’t the worst part. Oh no, he apparently didn’t do unconscious sleep cuddling by halves. His head was nestled on her chest, his nose touching the underside of her jaw, the softness of her neck mere breaths away from his mouth. In the night, he’d managed to hook his leg around the one of hers that was closest to him. He was limpeted to Lila Cartwright like a fucking barnacle.
Rhys groaned inwardly and blinked. He was barely wearing any clothes, just his boxers, and they were twisted so much that if he didn’t move soon, he ran the risk of never having children. Lila, it seemed, wasn’t wearing much either. Her leg was bare and warm under his. He swallowed.
With any luck, she’d still be asleep and he could untangle himself from her without her even knowing, and then they could put this whole sordid thing behind them.
That would be the best thing.
“Rhys?”
