Page 36 of Bedhead

Oh my God. What is happening?

“I missed you, H.” Drew’s voice was thick with sleep, and I wondered if he was still dreaming. He held on to me tight, pushing his leg between mine, tangling them together.

I didn’t think I breathed the whole time.

The whole thing was so sudden, so out of nowhere, that I couldn’t comprehend Drew wrapping himself around me…or that he missed me.

A soft snore left him, leaving me wondering what I should do now. He was obviously sleeping, maybe even thinking of someone else and wanting a body close.

He said H…

I shoved the thought away. It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t realize what he was doing. Really, I should push him away.

Several seconds passed, though, and I stayed right where I was, covered in Drew.

Was it wrong that it felt so good?

Closing my eyes, I lay there and gave myself a moment to enjoy it, even if it was wrong. The warmth of his body felt so safe, so familiar, that I couldn’t help but relax into his hold.

I ignored the voice in the back of my head that told me this was crazy. I already knew that much. I just couldn’t force myself to pull away, no matter how much the rational side of me knew I needed to.

What if…

What if we stayed like this?

What if I pretended not to notice what he’d done?

I sighed softly, feeling the tension leave as I settled back into Drew.

Yeah. I could pretend.

I was good at pretending.

13

DREW

“ALL RIGHT, WHAT’LL it be tonight? Monopoly? Uno? Pictionary?” my dad called out. Even with my parents’ busy schedules, they’d always made it a point for family game night at least once a week. I might have moved into the frat house a couple of years ago, but that hadn’t changed our busting out our competitive sides on my visits over. Truthfully, I always looked forward to these nights; it was the only time my dad eased up on riding me about my future. As long as I could win at game night, I wasn’t a complete failure.

“You can’t play Pictionary with only three people,” I told him as I helped Mom clear the dining room table.

“Who said it’s just the three of us?” he replied.

“Uh uh. You can’t claim Brody as a teammate this time.” I looked pointedly at the French bulldog that followed a foot behind my dad wherever he went, and like he knew I was talking about him, he barked.

“I don’t think your dad meant Brody.” Mom lifted an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips as she carried off the remaining pot roast into the kitchen.

Before I could ask what she meant, the doorbell rang.

When neither of my parents acknowledged it, I had a sneaking suspicion something was up.

“Gee, don’t worry, I’ll get it,” I said, looking between them before rolling my eyes and heading for the front door. God, I hoped this wasn’t some lame attempt to set me up. I hadn’t exactly told them I’d made things secretly official with Hudson, but I’d talked about him enough that they should’ve had a clue I wasn’t interested in exploring options with the son of one of their friends.

Ugh. I should keep whoever it was waiting on the porch, but it was late December and I wasn’t a monster.

Annoyance turned down my mouth as I opened the door, but that quickly changed when I saw who was standing there.

Hudson. Looking unimaginably handsome in a navy peacoat and jeans and holding a bouquet of flowers.

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