He laughs. “Relax. I’m wearing trunks. You can pretend we’re at the beach.”
My mind conjures an image of swim trunks. But then I remember Edward used to refer to his boxer briefs as trunks, and this memory makes me uneasy.
I shake my head, refusing to remove my hand from my eyes as I hear the buzz of his zipper and the rustle of his jeans hitting the floor. A gust of warm, Ethan-scented air whooshes over me, presumably as his pants fly through the air toward the dresser. The clean, rainforest smell makes my stomach swoop.
The mattress tilts as he lies next to me, and I quickly have to use the hand covering my eyes to stop myself from tipping over onto him. And, of course, the first thing I notice with my now-uncovered eyes is the sizable bulge in his boxer briefs.
Good Lord!
Look away, Alice. Look away!
But I can’t.
The sound of his deep laughter breaks me from my trance, and I can’t stop my gaze from traveling up the entire length of his sculpted abs and chest until we’re eye to eye.
He’s lying back looking very casual with one hand tucked behind his head and a devious smile on his face. I have a strong urge to run my fingertips over the grooves in his muscles, to press my skin against his…
“Are you going to sleep in those jeans?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked as if he’s daring me to match his audacity.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?” he asks, putting on his best innocent expression. “Hey, I surrendered the right side of the bed to you. If you knew how unprecedented that is, you wouldn’t be so suspicious of me.”
“Puh-lease,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and sitting up so I’m facing away from him. “I trust you about as much as I trust your brother.”
“Ouch,” he replies, but I don’t bother turning around to see if I’ve truly offended him.
I kick off my sneakers and peel off my socks, then I get into bed without looking at Ethan. Making sure to face away from him, I pull the covers up to my chin as I awkwardly slink out of my jeans. There’s at least two feet of space between us. I doubt we’ll bump into each other tonight. If he’s not going to sacrifice his comfort by remaining clothed, neither am I.
“You know, I’ve seen many women naked before. I don’t have to lift up this blanket to know what you look like under there.”
“Lift this blanket and I’ll lift your eyeballs out through your nostrils.”
“Reckon it might be worth it.”
I close my eyes and breathe deeply to steady my racing heart. I can do this. I can sleep next to this gorgeous man, smelling his amazing skin, without straddling him like a rodeo horse. I can resist.
Reaching over, I turn off the bedside lamp. Then, I tuck the blankets around me like a protective burrito covering. I try not to feel self-conscious about the soft rolls of back fat around my bra, or the fact that I’m not wearing sexy underwear today. Not that I’ve worn sexy underwear any time in the last six months.
But the longer I lie in the same position, thinking the same dangerous thoughts, the more restless I become. Until I can no longer take it, and I turn around onto my other side.
I breathe a sigh of relief and the tension in my back relaxes. Ethan is fast asleep. But my anxiety quickly returns when I notice he’s forgotten to turn off the lamp on his side of the bed.
At home, I never sleep with the lights on. I have blackout curtains and stickers covering any power indicator lights on my electronics. If I get tired enough tonight, I may be able to fall asleep with Ethan’s lamp on. But if I wake in the middle of the night, I won’t be able to fall back to sleep. I have to turn it off.
Very slowly and quietly, I slip out of bed and tiptoe toward Ethan’s bedside table. Without waking him, I press the brass button to turn off the lamp. But right as I do this, his phone buzzes with an incoming notification.
The phone is lying face-up on the nightstand, and I can’t help but peek at the brightly lit screen. It’s a text message from Tino that reads: Hey boss. You bringing my truck back tonight?
Didn’t Ethan say he spoke to Tino earlier, or did I misunderstand him?
Glancing at him to make sure he’s still sleeping, I tiptoe back to my side. But when I’m near the foot of the bed, the light from the notification on Ethan’s phone turns off automatically and I’m plunged into total darkness.
My foot accidentally kicks the corner of the bed frame, and I let out a hushed curse. Ethan stirs on the bed. Through the blackness, I can’t see if he’s awake, so I hurriedly tiptoe the rest of the way to my side of the bed and slide beneath the covers.
I’m about to shut my eyes, when I hear a soft murmur, like the sound of someone savoring a delicious bite of food.
“Mmm… Definitely worth it.”
Somewhat reluctantly, I allow myself to smile. The inky darkness affords me the privacy to smile with confidence. I don’t normally feel positive when I think about my body.
Before I can stop myself, I turn over onto my right side to face him. I can barely see the silvery outline of his lips and the tip of his nose. But I can definitely see the whites of his eyes.
“Goodnight,” I whisper.
He watches me for a while, long enough that I begin to wonder if he may have fallen asleep with his eyes open. Maybe he was talking in his sleep.
Finally, he replies, but his words are not what I expect. “I should sleep on the floor.”
“Why?” I
