“Hey, cocoa powder is nicer than lemon juice!” She continues to laugh, and fuck if her laugh isn’t the best thing I’ve heard in a long time. Her face is lit up and happy, and she looks so damn carefree. It’s not often I see this side of her, but I fucking love it.
After going a few more rounds, where I make her eat mustard and honey, and she forces me to eat soy sauce and butter, the timer goes off for our flatbread.
Once she’s drizzled some balsamic vinegar over it, we slice and plate our food, then settle back onto the couch to continue our movie marathon. The flatbread is delicious and between the two of us, we devour the entire thing.
A few hours later, in the middle of the fourth—or is it the fifth?—movie, I hear the faint sound of snoring. I glance over at Georgia, who’s snuggled up against my side, her face resting against my shoulder, and find her sleeping. Somewhere along the way, we ended up cuddled under a blanket together. I consider moving her to her room, to her own bed, but selfishly don’t. I don’t question myself—not wanting to have to consider the answer—as I shift us so we’re both lying across the couch, with her head now tucked into the crook of my neck, and fall asleep to the sound of Georgia snoring.
Georgia
“What are you doing?” Chase asks, stepping into my bathroom. We’ve just gotten back from having breakfast and going for a walk on the pier and are hanging out until we have to head over to Lexi and Alec’s place for the barbecue. “And why do you look like an alien who invaded Earth?”
I glance at him through the mirror and laugh. “I’m giving myself a facial. Want one?” It’s meant as a joke, but I shouldn’t be surprised when Chase shrugs and steps into the bathroom.
“Sure, will it make my face all smooth?”
“As a baby’s butt,” I joke.
“I’ve never felt a baby’s butt,” he says, taking the tube of face mud. “What do I do?”
“First, wash your face with warm water.”
He does as I say, then turns to me. “Now what?”
“Now, this…” I squirt a glob out and smear it across his forehead, down the center of his nose, and along the tops of his cheeks. He has scruff along his cheeks and jaw, so I don’t bother putting any there.
“Put it all over,” he says, going cross-eyed as he tries to look down. “Maybe it’ll make my beard soft too.”
“Okay.” I snort.
When I’ve covered his face completely, he looks in the mirror and smiles. “Take a picture with me.”
“What?” I squeak. “No!”
“Yes,” he says, pulling his arm around my neck and bringing me in front of him. He grabs his phone from the pocket of his sweats and snaps a picture. “This is totally Instagram worthy.”
He types into his phone. “What’s your name on there? I can’t find you.”
“I only have one for my business. I never really do anything worth posting…” And I don’t exactly have many friends to follow or who would follow me.
“We need to change that. You’re hanging out with me now. Everything we do is worth posting.”
I shake my head and laugh. He’s such a cocky ass. And sweet, and sexy, and the perfect human bed, I think to myself, remembering this morning when I woke up, lying on the couch in the comfort of his arms, both of us wrapped up in a blanket like we were burritos. He opened his eyes and smiled and my heart damn near stopped in my chest. I’ve never fallen asleep with a man before, but it’s something I definitely want to do again. Too bad it won’t be with Chase since he’s off-limits… The thought feels like lead settling in my belly. Do other guys cuddle the way Chase does? Are their arms as strong and comforting? I guess there’s only one way to find out—actually get out and meet someone.
“It’s as hard as cement,” Chase says, poking at his face while he stretches his mouth open and closed, making the mud crack.
“That means it’s ready to be washed off,” I tell him through a laugh. Hanging out with Chase is never boring. I hope whoever I meet is fun like him. I can’t remember laughing as much as I have since I’ve been hanging out with him the last few days.
“We should go swimming.”
“I’m not sure the association will be happy with us rinsing our faces off in their pool.”
Chase cracks up. “After we rinse off. We have a few hours before we have to go to your sister’s for the barbecue.” He grabs a couple of washcloths and dips them under the water, then hands one to me.
“Wow,” he says, admiring his face once the mud mask is all off. “You’re right. My face is smooth. Now, get a suit on, so we can go swimming.”