Page 9

EIGHT

declan

“What are you doing?”

“There’s only one bed in this apartment,” Willa says. She’s standing at the foot of it, staring with wide eyes.

“It’s a California king. We can easily sleep together and not even know.” I crawl into my side and set my phone on the charger. I’m fully clothed in my black pajama pants and a white t-shirt. It’s not like she has to crawl into bed next to a naked guy.

“How did I not realize I’d have to sleep next to your smelly ass?” she mutters, snapping out of whatever stupor she was in.

“We’ve shared a tent before. I don’t see how this giant comfortable bed that has zero rocks or sticks in it is a problem,” I playfully grumble.

“I know. That’s how I became acquainted with your farting and snoring.” She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

“I do not snore!” I yell. Do I? She’s the only person I’ve ever slept next to.

“You didn’t deny the farting!” she calls back, and I laugh.

“I’ll work on clenching my cheeks while I snooze,” I promise.

“See that you do,” she says as she steps back into the room. Any smart ass reply I have dies on my lips as I take her in. She’s just in sleep shorts and a tank top, but it’s the way it all hugs her body. Willa is fucking beautiful, and her body is killer. I seem to be just now realizing I have a wet dream for a best friend. And I asked her to sleep in my bed until I move into her house. Fuck me .

“Hey, Princess?”

“Yeah, hockey boy?” she says, getting comfortable on her side of the bed and turning to face me.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Willa smiles. “Stop thanking me and go to sleep.”

Turning the light off, I snuggle down into my bed. It’s a really expensive mattress to help with all the aches in my body after a long skate or a rough game. It’s the only piece of furniture I took with me from San Diego. It also usually puts me to sleep within minutes, but instead I’m staring at the ceiling, hyperaware of the woman in my bed with me.

“You don’t really snore. Stop thinking so loud so I can get some sleep.”

I laugh in surprise. “I knew it!”

“Good night, hockey boy,” she says. Her breathing evens out soon after.

“Good night, Princess,” I whisper and follow her into oblivion.