“Why are you getting up?”
“Because I can’t let you sleep on the couch. I’ll go to the couch, or you can come and sleep with me.”
He moves to get up, but I stop him. What would it hurt to lie down next to him? Nothing.
I turn off the light, shrug out of my robe, and drape it on the stool at the end of the bed.
I stay on my side, but suddenly Mick groans and wraps an arm around my waist. He pulls me back against him, his front touching my back, and he holds me close.
“Mick,” I whisper.
“What?” he whispers back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“That’s all you’re doing?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums. “Holding you and sleeping. That’s all I want to do.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. I can feel the pressure, but not the kiss, and I hear the noise his mouth makes. “Go to sleep.”
So, I do. I get comfortable, and I go to sleep with Mick’s arms wrapped around me. And I sleep better than I have in a very long time.
Mick
I wake up to a cold breeze tickling my naked back. The front of me is warm, because I’m pressed up against a soft body. I lift my head and brush the long dark hair from my face.
“Dude, what the fuck?” a female voice says from the doorway. I look up to find my brother Ryan and Wren’s sister Lark standing in the doorway. Ryan leans casually against the doorjamb, his arms crossed in front of him as he smirks at me.
Wren jerks from her sleep with a start. She reaches behind her and pats my hip. Then she rolls onto her stomach so she can look at me. “This can’t end well,” she says quietly. Then she buries her face in her pillow and groans. Her hair is a snarl of tangles around her face, and she’s never been more beautiful.
“Get out,” I say to Ryan in sign language as I speak out loud. “Take your wife with you.”
“Not a chance in hell,” he replies. He continues to smirk at me from the doorway.
“You have until I count to five, and then I’m coming out from under the covers. And I might not have underwear on. I can’t remember.”
Before I can get to two, Lark grabs Ryan and drags him from the room. The door slams behind them.
“Last time I checked, you were wearing underwear,” Wren mumbles from against her pillow. Her face is creased from the sheets, and she squeezes her eyes tightly closed.
“I know,” I reply. I brush her hair back from her face. “I just wanted them to go away.”
“Do you remember what happened last night?” she asks. She rolls onto her back, and I immediately note that she’s not wearing a bra. I inch my hips back just a bit so she won’t realize how that affects me.
“I had a sleepover with my BFF, I think.” I scrub my nose with my hand, trying to wake up.
She snorts. “You got stinking drunk with Henry, and then you fell asleep in my bed.”
“Neither version of the events sounds very romantic.”
She lifts her head and glares at me. “Were you going for romance at all?”
“Maybe a little.”
She shoves my shoulder. “You can’t romance your BFF. It doesn’t work like that.”
Someone should tell that to my dick, becaus