Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
It’s four-thirty in the morning and I’m trying to get a corner of the covers back so I can try and return to sleep. I tug on the red-and-white-checked duvet that she’s gripping, vise-like.
Carefully, I pull on the end of the material, freeing a section of it from her greedy hands. But my lovely dragon just yanks it right into her arms again. She’s stolen all the pillows too. Thrown a leg around one. Stuffed two under her head.
I try one more time, jerking the cover harder to free it…when I jerk her right into my arms. She blinks and opens her eyes.
“Are the pirates here for the cans of soup? I don’t want any hemp. Close the curtains. I can’t take any more flowers after midnight.”
I stifle a laugh. Correction: I stifle a laugh badly. Her eyes widen more, and she blinks off the sleep. Confusion crosses her features even in the darkness, then awareness dawns. “Oh. Sorry. I was having a weird dream.”
“Were you hogging all the covers in it?”
She glances down, then up at me, inching back a little. “Oops. Guess I was.”
“You’re the worst bed hog I’ve ever seen,” I tell her but I’m smiling because finally, fucking finally, I have the cure to my Fable addiction once and for all—she’s a bed thief, ergo we could never work. I like my bed the way I like it—neat, organized, with just enough blanket for me. This is great. Hallelujah and joy to the world!
“I guess I am,” she says, then winces. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”
Fuck no. She pops up, but I set a hand on her arm, firmly pulling her back down to the mattress. With me. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“But you’re not sleeping at all,” she says.
“I’m fine. I only woke up a few minutes ago without any covers. I told you I get hot at night anyway,” I say.
She looks down at the tangle of sheets and duvet then quickly untangles them, spreading them out on top of me, patting them to my chest like she’s tucking me in. “There.”
“You do know this is how we started trying to share this bed? We were both under the covers. Then you, my little dragon, stole them all.”
“Why are you smiling then?”
Because I can get over you at last. But I can’t say that to her. Instead, I say, “Because you’re adorable when you sleep.”
“I’m not. I’m a monster, even alone. I wake every morning twisted up in my sheets. Sometimes my pillows are on the floor. But it’s been a while since I…well, shared a bed with someone.”
That’s surprising, given her romantic situation with fuckface a few weeks ago. “Not with Brady?”
She shakes her head. “He never spent the night at my place. I never did at his either.”
I’m rarely surprised, but now that’s twice in a few seconds. “Never? Why not?”
“He said he slept better alone, and he needed to be fresh for the markets. It was fine,” she says, but she sounds stoic. Like maybe it wasn’t fine.
“Did you want him to? Spend the night?” I ask in a strangled voice. I’m the dragon now, seething with stupid envy over a past romance. And I know better. I shouldn’t ask about another man but this feels important for some reason. Now that I’ve gone down this path, I’m not stopping.
She twists the covers in her hands, her expression thoughtful as the moonlight streams across her lovely face. “The thing is—I wasn’t bothered as much as I should have been. I mean, a man should want to spend the night, right?” She turns toward me, tilting her head, her gaze curious.
My chest aches. A fire roars in me. “If you were mine, you’d be with me every night. If you were mine, I’d tell you how much I want you to stay over.” And fuck it. The sheet stealing is adorable after all because…of course it is. “If you were mine, I’d never care that you’re a bed hog.”
She swallows, parts her lips, then says, “I’d try not to be a bed hog for you.”
My heart clutches. So much for my efforts to erect some distance between us. All I want is to get closer to her now. To feel what it would be like if she were mine. I really should try to go back to sleep, so I motion for a pillow.
She hands one to me, then says, “What about you?”
“What about me?” I ask as I lie back on the pillow.
“Did you want your last girlfriend to spend the night? When was your last relationship? Was it Felicity?”
“The last serious one, yes,” I admit.
“Why didn’t it work out with her? Did she steal the sheets?”
I smile then lift a hand and stroke Fable’s hair, swiping it off her cheek. My fingers tingle as I touch her soft skin. I shouldn’t do this—indulge. And yet, I’m doing it, and she’s…inching a little closer. I answer her with, “We were together for a few years after Mac was born. But in the end, we were better as friends. As co-parents. We didn’t have that…spark. We got along almost too well.”