Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Close. Ooh, just overshot it.”
Turns out, it wasn’t my door anyway.
My room is one over.
“See now? That would have helped.”
I feel like a world-class locksmith when I finally succeed in opening my door. I step inside and toss my sweater and clutch into the air. I think I meant for them to land on a surface, any surface, but they just crash to the ground.
“Wow, you must be drunk. No perfect pile or neat arrangement?”
“Oh shoot!”
I quickly grab my sweater and hang it up in my closet, place my clutch on my dresser so it’s tidy and next to my other bags, and then put my shoes back in my closet, in their assigned spot. When I turn back to Noah, he’s standing on the threshold, studying me.
“Much better.”
He chuckles and shakes his head.
“You coming in or not?” I tease. “You made it all the way to my door, might as well step inside.”
“Only for a bit. To help you get ready for bed.”
Does he think I can’t do that on my own? I only sat down on the floor to rest my legs for one second, but now that I’m down here, I realize it’s really not so bad. I could sleep here just fine.
“The second bottle of wine might have been a bad idea,” he says, heading toward my dresser. “Where are your pajamas?”
“Second drawer from the top. Don’t look at my panties. Noah, Noah—don’t you dare look at my panties.”
A second later, he drops my pajamas on my chest.
“Here, put them on. I’m going to go get your toothbrush.”
True to his word, he’s back in a second with my toothbrush in hand, but that’s not all. He brings me everything I need to get ready for bed. A warm washcloth to wash my face, a little towel to dry it off. Some water to help ease my hangover in the morning.
Then he draws down the blankets on my bed so I can crawl underneath them.
“You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met,” I say, meaning it. “I’m going to tell everyone. Everyone. They won’t believe me. I think I had too much wine.”
“So did I.”
“Why are you the one putting me to bed then? I should be helping you.” I try to sit up.
“Here, lie back.”
“You could sleep in here.”
“I…don’t think that’d be the best idea.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not of sound mind. I can’t be trusted to make good decisions.”
“Pfft. Decisions shmuh-shisions. Who cares.”
He leans down to kiss my forehead. “Good night, Audrey.”
He leaves me in bed and walks to the door. He looks back just for a moment and I give him a little wave like I’m a toddler he’s babysitting.
When he’s gone, I stare up at the ceiling and sulk.
What a waste of a perfectly good evening.
Next Saturday night we’ll be back in the States. Life will be normal and boring again. No Noah right across the hall from me. No scandalous opportunities right at my fingertips.
I whip my blanket off and open my door to find Noah walking out of his room too. He’s changed into shorts but he’s not wearing a shirt anymore. He’s had a change of heart about going to his room; I see it all over his face.
“On second thought—”
“Actually—”
We speak at the same time, assuring each other that this is a good idea. We’ll have a friendly sleepover in my room, but we’ll be very responsible and chaste. Not even one kiss. We shake on it.
I take his hand and tug him into my room, and we fall onto my bed together.
To our credit, it’s platonic at first. We’re lying down facing each other. My eyes rove over every inch of him. His hands stay planted firmly at my waist, no wandering.
“We’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says. “Close your eyes.”
I do. For exactly half a second, and then I squint one eye open to see he’s doing the same.
Well, well, well…looks like neither one of us is to be trusted.
We cut the crap and open our eyes.
I scoot a little closer. He tilts his head down.
“We should really sleep,” I tell him, arching my head until our lips are almost aligned.
“Shhh. I am asleep,” he says, tugging me toward him until our bodies are flush.
It’d be impossible to say who initiated the kiss.
We meet exactly in the middle.
Two lovers who can’t be held off a moment longer.
His fingers tangle in my hair. My hand flattens against his chest. What starts out as innocent fun turns wicked almost immediately. The kiss is scorching and reminiscent of the one we shared at the club last week. All that pent-up longing…it has to come out somehow, and I see that now. I feel the way Noah wants me and it emboldens me. I start to press up onto my elbow so I can crawl on top of him and Noah breaks the kiss, breathing hard, dragging a hand down his face.