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I crack the door open. The room’s pitch black, the light hum of Colt’s snore the only sound in the quiet room.
Of course he snores.
Arms outstretched since I’m practically blind from the bright bathroom light, I tiptoe across the room to the couch. Colt somehow found an extra sheet, draping it over the sofa for me. His quilt’s folded in a neat square on the end cushion, the pillow propped on the arm.
My chest squeezes tight and I feel a tiny bit of my resolve slipping away.
He made the couch up for me.
I mean, would have been nicer if he gave me the bed, but still. Baby steps, I suppose.
Lying down on the lumpy sofa, I do my best to stretch out. Unfortunately, this isn’t a regulation-sized couch and I’m forced to bend my knees at an uncomfortable forty-five-degree angle. I pull the quilt up over my bare legs and try to get settled, but sleep doesn’t come.
Instead, I stare up at the ceiling and run through everything that’s gone wrong in the last six months. My loser boyfriend of three years cheated on me with his much-younger college intern. I gave up the job I had with the loser boyfriend, working as his apprentice in an art gallery. Jobless and homeless, I decided to move back to Peach Springs. And now I’m rooming with the one guy in town I swore I’d never, ever touch—no matter what.
Because Colt Wild is bad news with a capital ‘B.’
Besides being my brother’s best friend, he’s also the biggest playboy this side of the Mississippi. I swear he systematically worked his way through our entire high school before he graduated.
The only girl he never paid any attention to whatsoever was me.
Well, good.
Let’s keep it that way. No need to break the decades-long streak now.
Colt lets out a long, loud snore, jolting me from my thoughts. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but it’s a lost cause. The couch cushions are so old and thin the coils push up into my back, jabbing me in the spine. My neck’s aching from the weird angle and I’m cold.
“Colt?” I whisper his name into the dark. No response.
Great, he’s asleep. Sitting up, I snag the pillow and creep across the room to the bed. As quietly as possible, I sink down onto the fluffy mattress. Colt stirs and I freeze, staring at his muscular frame in the dim light. He’s sleeping on his stomach, one arm stretched out across the mattress, effectively taking up ninety percent of the bed.
It’s fine. I’d rather have ten percent of the bed than one hundred percent of the lumpy sofa.
Silently, I fold back the corner of the duvet and ease into the sheets, careful not to connect with any part of Colt’s body. His clean, masculine scent winds around me as I snuggle under the covers. I find myself relaxing under the rhythmic pattern of his slow, regular breathing. Like he’s hypnotizing me or something.
I close my eyes and am just drifting off to sleep when something heavy lands with a soft thud across my body. Cracking my eyes open, I stare down at Colt’s tan arm stretching across my chest, right beneath my breasts. I try to squirm out from under him, but he only tightens his grip and pulls me closerto him. Now I’m pressed up against his torso, my face inches away from him. His breath’s warm on my face, every exhale a soft snore.
I gaze at his profile, the high cheekbones, the square jaw. He looks so peaceful in his sleep.
Almost makes me not hate him.
“Couldn’t resist, huh, Trix?” The low rumble of his voice shocks me and I stiffen.
Shit.I thought I could sneak out of the bed before he woke up in the morning. So much for that plan.
“The couch sucks. You can give it a try tomorrow night.”
“No thanks. I won’t tell anyone you caved and slept with me.”
“Ha ha, very funny. Shut up and go back to sleep, Wild. And if you wouldn’t mind giving me at least a third of the bed, that would be cool.”
“So greedy, Trix. Fine.”
He moves his arm off my chest, scooting away from me in the bed. And I’d never admit it, but I kinda miss the comforting feel of him holding me tight.
“Night, Trix.” He murmurs the words, his back to me.
“Night, Wild.”
