Page 65 of I Wish He Would

I run my hand through my still-damp hair. “You’re watching without me?”

“Sorry.” She ducks her head sheepishly. “It was the only good thing on that I could fi—” Her words cut off as she looks at me. Her eyes drink in my bare torso like I’m an ice-cold glass of water and she’s walking out of the desert. At least that’s why I imagine her cheeks are now flaming pink and she won’t meet my gaze.

“Where’s your shirt?”

“You’re wearing it.”

She slides her knees to her chest up under the shirt, still looking small in it. “You only brought one shirt to sleep in?”

“I usually sleep shirtless.” I decide it’s better not to mention that I don’t normally sleep with pants on either. “I brought that shirt to wear on the plane ride home. I didn’t think I’d need any with the full schedule of events.”

She bites her bottom lip. “So, you’re just going to sleep like”—she gestures to my shirtless chest—“that?”

“Unless you want me to sleep in my gross plane clothes.” Alyssa wrinkles her nose. I laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

“Better you than me,” she whispers under her breath as I slide into bed. I sputter, and it turns into a cough. “You okay?” She pats my back, but the feel of her soft hand on my bare skin only escalates the issue.

I jump off the bed and head back into the bathroom, taking a long drink of water from the sink faucet. It doesn’t taste great, but it’s better than the weird choking. When I step back into the room, Alyssa worries her bottom lip.

My eyes are fixed on her mouth as she keeps her gaze on the muted television that’s now on a commercial break. Stop staring at her lips, I internally chide myself. You can think about kissing later, but right now is not the time. I slide under the covers and give myself a little pep talk. I’m good. Not at all nervous to sleep next to my best friend. It’s not going to be weird at all.

“Which episode is it?” I ask, trying to sound chill.

She sucks her lips into her mouth like she doesn’t want to say. Before she has a chance to answer, the show is back from the commercial break. Alyssa unmutes it and finally answers me as I watch the scene unfold on the screen.

“The one where Nick and Jess finally make out.”

Fan-freaking-tastic.

My alarm goes off, and I quickly stretch my arm over to reach my phone on the end table, careful not to shift the mattress, and press snooze. Joke’s on it, because I’ve already been awake for a solid thirty minutes because I woke up tucked under one of Austin’s muscular arms and have been incapable of falling back asleep.

I’m too scared to move—to breathe—out of fear it will wake him up and we’ll have to awkwardly address the fact that we knocked our pillow barrier out of the way at some point in the night, and now my body is pressed into his side. My head is tucked between his cheek and shoulder while his hand holds tightly to my waist.

This is everything I didn’t dare let myself hope or dream of—cuddling all night long and waking up next to him. I just wish it had been intentional, but we were probably both seeking warmth from the frigid air coming from the vents above the bed. I thought I was coming to the Caribbean, not the tundra, but I guess I should thank the freezing temps for giving me a taste of what it feels like to snuggle up with Austin.

When he moves next to me, I quickly close my eyes and feign sleep. Austin slowly lifts his arm off me, and I keep my eyes shut until I feel the bed shift. I yawn, rub my eyes, and put on my best why yes, I did just wake up and had absolutely no idea we were cuddling all night face. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He smiles. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.” I pull the covers up. “Even though I think I might turn into an icicle.”

“Is it cold?” Austin sits up in bed, his shirtless torso braving the elements. “I didn’t notice.”

Probably because we were each other’s personal body heaters all night long. But it’s best not to mention that.

“How did you sleep?” I ask.

“Like a baby.” Austin moves his hands behind his head in a stretch, making his biceps strain in the most delicious way.

This is the kind of wake-up I could get used to.

He gets out of bed and dances around the pillows on the floor. The ones that had been a barrier between us hours ago. “Want a coffee? I can run and grab some to get out of your hair while you get ready.”

A man who gives me the space to be alone while I get ready for the day and offers to get me a coffee? In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.

“That would be great. I’d love an iced latte.” I’m not the biggest coffee girlie. I usually prefer a flavored lemonade, but I still enjoy an occasional latte when I need the caffeine boost. And I’ll take all the help I can to get through this week.

“Any particular flavor?” He slides on a sweatshirt and his tennis shoes.