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Red.
Red was always in my dreams, but now it was different. He was there. Front and center by my side, looking at me like I was the leading lady of his story. All too quickly, the dreams started to fade as I became a little more aware of where I was. My bedroom was dark and quiet when a thick arm pulled me in closer and a beautiful cozy heat hit my back.
“Kaitlyn,” Red’s deep voice muttered, and I smiled.
Red. The entire night came tumbling back.
Most of it had felt like a fantasy, but it had been real. He’d shown up unexpectedly with dinner and flowers in tow. The pizza was cold when we finally got around to eating it naked in bed, but nothing had ever tasted better.
“I love you, beautiful.” His lips pressed against the side of my face, and everything inside of me melted into a huge puddle of goo. There were so many sides to Red I was so familiar with, they were practically predictable.
But this was new.
Different.
Beautiful.
A new us.
He was still my best friend, but he was more now. And it was better than anything I could have ever imagined.
“I love you, too.” I rolled around to face him. “Did I wake you up?” I asked, my voice still raspy with sleep.
I watched as he shook his head. My hands had a mind of their own and moved to gently touch his face. I loved the beard he’d grown out while he had been coaching at U of D.
“I like this,” I noted with a smile. I’d seen him with a beard before, but only when we had first graduated while he’d been recovering and going though physical therapy. Now that we were older, his beard was fuller, and there was something distinguished about the gray bits that came through, plus the lines at his blue eyes that made him seem almost kinder. Wiser.
“Then I’ll keep it,” he said like my opinion was the only one that mattered. He leaned into my hands as I rubbed his beard. I couldn’t stop thinking about how that beard felt when he kissed me. Red was not shy with his kisses, and he liked to do it while his hand explored my body.
“Were you awake?” He nodded, his eyes somewhat intense as he stared at me in the darkness. “Why? Is my bed not comfortable?” I asked but didn’t wait for his answer. Every second, I felt more awake as I rambled nervously. “I know it’s smaller than yours. I had thought about upgrading but never got around to it. Maybe I should look into getting a new?—”
“That works to my advantage,” he cut me off. His eyes almost glittered as he watched me closely.
“It does?” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against mine.
“It does, baby. I like having you close to me.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Red did a terrible job of trying to bite away a deep chuckle, and I started to frown.
“I don’t see what’s funny,” I mumbled. “I was being serious. I was worried you couldn’t sleep?—”
“Shh… you worry too much. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Right,” I scoffed, and his head tilted as if surprised by my answer. Something about that compelled me to explain. “I always worry about you, Red Bridges.” I shrugged. “You’ve been my best friend forever. Friends worry about one another, and now…”
“Now?”
“You’re my boyfriend.” His brows bunched together, and mine rose to my hairline. “Do I have that wrong? Are you not my?—"
“I’m yours. I just…” He licked his lips and shifted us around.
Suddenly, we were sitting up, his back against my headboard. There was something seriously sexy about a man in your bed. His broad, hairy chest on display, your legs straddling his thick bare thighs in your bed. No. Not just any man. Red.
“I’m thirty-eight,” he said in almost a pout. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.
“I know. I am, too,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes.
