Page 14 of Love, Academically

Forcing her eyes open, Lila changed quickly into a vest top and shorts snatched from her bedside drawers and threw her lounging clothes on the floor. They were way too warm to sleep in, even when it was cold.

“Here.” Rhys reappeared and put her phone, a glass of water and two tablets on her little bedside table, stepping over her discarded clothes. “Okay, I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning. Well, later in the morning.”

“Rhys,” she said wearily.

“Lila.” He swung round to face her, eyes slightly pink and hair just that right side of dishevelled. Rhys looked devilishly sexy when tired, but, also he looked damned tired. “Don’t say you’ll get a taxi. I’ve already said I’ll come and get you.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” she snapped, before smoothing her face into a sleepy smile. “It’s gone two in the morning. By the time you get home and get to bed it will be nearly three and then you’ll only be back here in a few hours.”

Rhys shrugged and passed a hand over his face.

“It’s too dangerous for you to drive when you’re this tired. Why don’t you just stay here? That would make sense.”

“Where?” He barked out a laugh. “The sofa is too small for you, let alone me. Your spare room, which I managed to find instead of the bathroom earlier, is the size of a matchbox and is full of books and, and, I don’t even know what else.”

She sighed and plugged in her phone before snuggling down in the bed, carefully moving her leg.

“I know all of that, Rhys, it’s my house. I meant here. This bed is perfectly big enough. We’re two adults. I’m sure we can sleep next to each other.”

Rhys hesitated. His shoulders drooped and his eyes blinked so slowly she thought he may have fallen asleep standing up. Everything she’d said was true. He would have to be back here in a few hours if he insisted on coming to get her.

“Lila, I—”

“Rhys Aubrey, I’m not going to hear anymore from you. If you won’t stay here, then I will hold a Mexican themed day in your office, invite all your students and make you sing Mexican karaoke.”

Lila yawned and waited.

She was one hundred percent not about to jump Rhys – she was far too tired for all that.

Besides, she had sworn off men. Rhys just had a nice arse.

He had looked after her all day and now it was her turn to look after him.

What if he got in an accident because he’d fallen asleep at the wheel?

What if he overslept and missed the entire day at work?

Lila didn’t know which would be worse for him.

Besides, if he slept at her house (and therefore had more sleep because of lack of travelling), she would be doing her best to diminish the rattiness that he surely would have tomorrow.

In essence, she was doing the world (and Rhys) a favour.

“Fine.” He sighed and moved to the other side of the bed, hesitating before undoing the buttons on his shirt. Bless him, Rhys was shy of her.

She made a show of taking a sip of water so he knew she wasn’t ogling him, because she wouldn’t want him ogling her if their positions were swapped.

She did not, however, fail to notice the muscles in his back moving as he draped his shirt over the back of her dressing-table chair.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his phone on the bedside table.

“I need to be at work early. Can you please set an alarm, my phone is dying,” he said quietly.

“You can’t sleep in your trousers, Rhys,” she murmured. “I’ve got some really big fluffy pyjama bottoms if you want them?”

“No,” he said, obviously too tired to make any other comment.

Rhys stood, the trousers slid off and he folded them quickly over his shirt on the chair before practically diving into bed. Lila deliberately didn’t look at his dark boxers that highlighted the excellent curve of his arse, but she couldn’t help catching a glimpse. She was only human.

“Okay. Goodnight, Rhys.” Lila, finally satisfied, switched off the bedside light.

“Goodnight, Lila,” Rhys replied. “The alarm?”

“My alarm is set, Rhys,” Lila muttered. “Go to sleep.”

“Your bed is lumpy,” he grumbled, shifting his weight.

“It is not. You’re just so close to the edge if you took a deep breath you’d end up on the floor,” she said, turning on her side and putting a hand under her pillow.

The whole bed shook as Rhys shuffled further onto the bed with a huff.

“Are you happy now?”

“Are you comfy now?”

“Goodnight, Lila,” he snapped.

Lila smiled to herself, because she had won, and he was comfortable now.

“Goodnight, Rhys.”

It was nice, having another person’s weight on the other side of the bed, even if it was Rhys Aubrey. Lila’s eyes closed, and she drifted off listening to Rhys’s even, deep breaths.

Rhys

That had been the best night’s sleep Rhys had had for a very long time. It didn’t hurt that he was so absolutely, desperately tired after waiting round all day at the hospital and then eating grease-laden fish and chips.

But he was surprised his alarm hadn’t gone off yet. Never mind, that meant he had a few more minutes. The bed was so comfortable, so vanilla-pod warm.

Rhys tightened his grip on—

Oh God.

His heart stuttered in embarrassment because he was wound like an octopus around Lila Cartwright.

Rhys’s arm was tucked around Lila’s waist, but that wasn’t the worst part.

Oh no, he apparently didn’t do unconscious sleep cuddling by halves.

His head was nestled on her chest, his nose touching the underside of her jaw, the softness of her neck mere breaths away from his mouth.

In the night, he’d managed to hook his leg around the one of hers that was closest to him.

He was limpeted to Lila Cartwright like a fucking barnacle.

Rhys groaned inwardly and blinked. He was barely wearing any clothes, just his boxers, and they were twisted so much that if he didn’t move soon, he ran the risk of never having children. Lila, it seemed, wasn’t wearing much either. Her leg was bare and warm under his. He swallowed.

With any luck, she’d still be asleep and he could untangle himself from her without her even knowing, and then they could put this whole sordid thing behind them.

That would be the best thing.

“Rhys?”

That plan was scuppered then.

“Are you awake?” Lila’s voice was soft and sleepy. “Rhys?” She shook his arm lying across her waist gently. “Rhys, you’re like a radiator. I’m boiling to death.”

He had to move now.

“Oh, hey,” he said, clearing his throat. He started to disentangle himself. “Uh, sorry, I don’t know—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, pulling her leg from his. Even first thing in the morning, she had a smile.

“What time is it?” he asked, lying on his cold side of the bed, covers pulled up to his chin.

As if summoned, Lila’s alarm went off, all tinkly dew drops and promises of sunshine.

“It’s seven fifteen,” she said, reaching for her phone. “Ugh, so early.”

“Seven fifteen?” He sat bolt upright in her bed, the duvet falling around him.

He’d overslept by an hour and fifteen minutes. He was usually on his way to work by now. It would take at least twenty minutes to get to the university from here, and Rhys would take any bet that Lila Cartwright did not rush in the morning, especially with a sprained ankle.

“We’ve got to get moving,” he said urgently, reaching for his trousers and trying to adjust his underwear discreetly before pulling them on, not caring if Lila caught more than a fleeting glimpse of his boxers. He thrust his arms into his shirt.

“What do you mean? Work doesn’t start until nine, Rhys. We’ve got plenty of time,” she said, the duvet falling away from her as she sat up.

“I like to be in by eight by the absolute latest. I have things to do,” he shot back at her, and ran a hand through his hair. Fuck, he sounded like a dick. She’d been kind to him. “Sorry. I just have a routine.”

“Okay, well so do I, and it involves a cup of tea and a slice of toast.” She swung her legs out of the bed.

Rhys blew out a breath as she stood up, testing her weight on her ankle.

It was okay. He didn’t have any lectures until ten. So what if he wasn’t there at eight? Once didn’t matter, did it?

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Lila asked, shuffling to the door. She pulled her tangled blonde hair over one shoulder.

“I’ll do it.” Rhys moved quicker in three seconds than she had in twenty. “How’s your ankle?”

“It’s much better, although it’ll take me a while to get anywhere without crutches.”

He should carry her downstairs again, shouldn’t he? That would be quicker.

“Go put the kettle on. I can make it to the bathroom and bum shuffle down the stairs.”

He nodded and escaped her bedroom.

It hadn’t been that long since he’d been in a woman’s bedroom, but it had been an awfully long time since he had woken up in one the morning after.

Staying over wasn’t something he generally enjoyed.

He didn’t have any of his stuff, he didn’t usually sleep well and other people didn’t know his routine.

Not that this was the morning after. It wasn’t, because nothing had happened. Except he had made a complete twat out of himself.

Rhys put the kettle on and made sure his shirt was tucked in, doing his best to pull the overnight creases out, despite it hanging neatly on the back of Lila’s chair. The toilet flushed and what felt like half an hour later, Lila flopped onto the sofa, still in her pyjamas.

“Do you take sugar?” Rhys called to her, putting a slice of bread in the toaster.

“Yes, two in the morning, please.”

He made both cups (his black, hers less black) and brought the hastily buttered toast into the front room, balancing them on the squidgy ottoman in front of Lila. She was watching some morning TV show that he had never seen because he was usually nearly at work by now.

“Here you are,” he said pointedly.

“Thanks, Rhys,” she said with a smile, and nibbled at her toast. He practically downed the scalding tea in one go. His knee bounced.

“Don’t you like breakfast TV?” Lila asked, indicating with the remote control.