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I tug her inside and shut the door. “Of course I don’t. It’s that…usually people don’t drop by this late unless it’s a booty call. Or they’re upset. Are you upset?” I eye her up and down, looking for any telltale signs that she’s in distress, and come up empty.
She frowns. “I don’t know how I feel about the termbooty call.”
“We can call it whatever you want.”
She searches around the room, her eyes flitting from my bed to my desk. Walking that way, she picks up the picture frame I have there.
“Those are the friends I told you about. Lex, Reid, and Briar.”
“You all look so happy.”
“Maybe you could meet them sometime.”
She sets the frame down. “I probably wouldn’t fit in.”
I disagree, but that’s a point of contention for another day. She’d probably fit in better than any other girl I’ve ever introduced to them, which is none. That realization hits me. There were girls I was with in college while we were all here, but I was never with someone formally.
“I get it,” I tease. “You’re only here to watch more of that serial killer documentary.”
She spins on her heels, grinning. “Am I that transparent?”
It’s easier to let her get away with lying for now. The fact that she’s here is enough. A step in the right direction.
“Well, come on.” I head toward the bed, setting the TV up to play Netflix. “I don’t remember which episode you fell asleep on.”
She turns my desk chair around and sits on it. The sound of Netflix booting up boomerangs in the background. “You’re not serious.”
“What?”
“Sit on the bed with me, beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush with a crimson stain.
She doesn’t move, so I reach out and tug on her hand. She comes willingly with that, and I arrange her in front of me, her ass nestled into my crotch. “Relax,” I whisper in her ear. “It’s me.”
She does so immediately, lying her head on my shoulder snuggling against my chest.
I wrap my arms around her, intent on pulling up her show but I’m distracted by all things Charley. The way she feels against me. The way her chest rises and falls. And the way her muscles jump under my touch when I bypass her hoodie andcotton shirt and go straight to splaying my hand across her stomach.
“You’re nice and toasty.”
“Mmm,” she replies.
I move her hair around her other shoulder, leaving her neck and ear open for me. For a few moments, I let her get comfortable, then I start exploring. Slowly, my fingers trace patterns over her stomach. Then more north, where my thumb skims the outline of her bra. Then, as far south as her jeans.
I had easier access before. Pajamas are so much more manageable to maneuver around, but I can make do.
“Are you warm?” I ask, discarding the remote for good.
“A little.”
She leans up, and I help her get her big hoodie off, dropping it to the floor. She’s so much smaller in my arms now. A perfect plaything.
“I’m going to touch you,” I whisper.
“You’re already touching me,” she replies.
I smile into her temple. “Smart mouth.”