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His smile spread slowly across his face. “What? You think I can’t shop for my own underwear? Though you’re right, Andi got them for me for Christmas last year. Brat may not like that I’m a firefighter, but it doesn’t stop her from teasing me about it.”

He pushed up from the bed, standing to his full height, and I couldn’t move. His smooth skin and the ripple of well-defined muscles short-circuited my brain. My fingers ached to run over his body, exploring. I clenched them instead and stood still as he brushed past me on his way to the bathroom. Was it my imagination, or did he pass closer than he needed to? Surely the doorway was broad enough he didn’t have to rub his body along mine, scorching me with his heat. He shut the door and I shook myself, ignoring the uptick in my heart rate. I returned from the kitchen with a glass of water in time to see Jimmy lean forward to pull back the covers on his side of the bed. Even the ridges of his shoulder blades were sexy, darn it. How was I supposed to get any rest sleeping next to male perfection? Heat blazed and prickled beneath my skin.

Jimmy yawned. Bastard. Clearly, he was going to have no trouble resisting me in the two-sizes-too-big sweats. “Is this okay?” he asked, gesturing to my side of the bed.

I nodded. “Sure. I’m not picky.” I sat down on the left side of the bed, and swung my legs up, laying down as stiff as a toddler resisting naptime.

“Comfortable?” his deep voice rumbled.

Darn. Jimmy’s base vocals stroked down my body until the reverberations reached my toes and I scrunched them into the soft sheets.

“Totally,” I lied.

Like a lying Liar McLiarpants.

Pretty soon his sweats, which were too big on me, were going to start smoking, and he was going to have to put them out. Was I comfortable? In theory? Sure. In reality, I was drenched in Jimmy. The queen-sized bed was large for one, but cozy for two. I could feel his body heat radiating toward me, though we weren’t touching. The subtle scent of Jimmy’s soap and laundry products were in the sheets and in the sweats I’d borrowed. I was wrapped in his essence, but not touching him at all. Torture.

He reached out a pinky to caress my wrist where it lay next to his. “Okay for me to turn my light off? Need anything?”

Boy did I. But nothing I could have. His voice had slipped into a deeper register with every word. The rough sound swept along every nerve, leaving goose bumps behind. I wanted to believe the extra rumble was because he was struggling to quiet the current of desire flowing between us as much as I was. Stupid doctors with their stupid instructions for stupid misbehaving hearts. “Goodnight,” I said as I rubbed my chest.

Jimmy leaned over to turn off his bedside light and the room plunged into darkness. I could hear everything. At home I slept with a fan for white noise. Here there was nothing to distract me from the sounds of the apartment and Jimmy’s neighbors moving around upstairs.

I focused on listening for his breathing. It slowly evened out. He was asleep. Then the show started upstairs. And by show, I mean vigorous bouncing accompanied by rhythmic squeaking. I’d thought Jimmy was asleep, but he lifted his pillow and pulled it across his face.

“Kill me now,” he groaned, his deep voice muffled by the pillow.

I laughed and his body relaxed next to mine, breaking the tension. “Groan much louder, and we’ll give them a run for their money. Do you have a fan or something we can turn on?”

“Sorry, yes. I’ll turn on the bathroom fan; it might help.”

The bed shifted as he left it, then the low hum of the bathroom fan started.

“Thank you.”

“First time I’m ashamed to have a woman thank me in the bedroom,” he admitted with a laugh. His deep bass wrapped around me in the dark, sliding like phantom fingers down my skin. Goose bumps pebbled my arms again, and I couldn’t blame it on the temperature. I was more than warm enough.

I wanted to groan. He had nothing to feel bad about. I was crankier about our forced celibacy than he seemed to be. Or he was hiding it. I really hoped he was hiding it well, because otherwise I was alone in my feelings.

I focused on my breath to calm my racing heart. I was used to relying on my body. But I couldn’t fix this with extra cardio at the gym or a few sessions of physical therapy or massage. I scowled up at the ceiling. My stupid heart was going rogue, and there was nothing I could do to stop it but rely on meds and my doctor. Giving up control felt unnatural. If I wanted to cede control, I’d work for someone else. If I wanted to go with the flow, I would still live at home with my parents and work for the family business. None of that felt like me, and not going after what I wanted with Jimmy felt equally wrong. I rubbed my chest. Stupid heart.