Page 9 of Not a Friend (Crescent Light #1)

When we stilled in the darkness, our heavy breaths were the only sounds filling the otherwise silent room. He gingerly wrapped a hand around my ankle, still hooked over his shoulder, and lowered it onto the bed.

As he lay down at my side, the post-orgasm high floated to the ground and faded.

Reality set in.

I suddenly wished I was under a blanket.

“Wow,” Nate huffed, breaking the silence and my thoughts.

I turned my head. He did the same, a satisfied smile across his lips. Then, for reasons I will never be able to explain, I burst into laughter.

Uncontrollable, uncomfortable, obnoxious laughter.

I laughed until tears formed in the corners of my eyes. Nate just watched me, mouth agape with amusement and confusion.

“I’m sorry!” I gasped for air, covering my mouth, willing the giggling to stop.

He raised exasperated brows at me. “Wa— Was it that bad?”

This only made me laugh harder because it was so ridiculous. Of course, it wasn’t bad. The man made me come so hard I saw stars. “No! No, it was good. Great, in fact. Really, really good.” Tiny giggles bubbled to the surface. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

He was starting to laugh, too, each word punctuated by chuckles. “Well, shit. You have a funny way of showing it!”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, my cheeks heating. “I was just so nervous earlier, and I think it’s coming out like this now.” I gestured to my face.

“Really?” His laughter slowed, brows drawing together. “Why were you nervous? I mean… you seemed to know what you were doing just fine.” His eyes drifted over my body for a moment, then came back to my face. The gaze made me itchy, but I supposed I didn’t have anything to hide at that point .

“I don’t know. I don’t normally go home with guys I meet at the club.” I chose to leave out the fact that I hadn’t had sex in over a year.

“Well, I’m honored to be one of your club guys then,” he said, holding up a fist and offering a knuckle bump to me. A knuckle bump.

Fully embarrassed and fighting back another bout of laughter, I quickly bumped his knuckles. I can’t leave him hanging . Then, I took it as an excuse to climb off the bed and go to the restroom.

I padded back into his bedroom a minute later with a throw blanket I found stretched on the back of his couch wrapped around me and both glasses of water that were left abandoned on the counter.

I put one glass in Nate’s outstretched hand when I reached him.

He was lounging in a pair of boxer briefs with his back against the headboard, aimlessly scrolling through a selection of movies on the TV.

The silence was so loud.

“Well,” I said, not meeting his eye. “Thanks for that.”

“I could say the same thing.” He smiled, patting the mattress beside him.

I hesitated.

Isn’t this the part where he’s supposed to tell me there's an Uber already on the way while he not-so-gently pushes me out the door? Sitting down to watch TV will only make it that much more awkward.

“I should probably get going.” I bent to grab my discarded jeans and top. Where the heck is my underwear? “I can call an Uber.”

“Do you have work or something in the morning?”

“No,” I answered, turning in place.

“And you don’t have class either, right? You said you were done with your finals?”

I nodded, scanning the floor again for my fucking underwear.

“It’s like 3 AM, Oli,” he continued. “Just crash here. ”

I blinked at him, assessing if the offer was genuine or if he was just being nice. It wasn’t until his eyebrows raised that I realized I still hadn’t answered. He sat up to face me, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, the muscles in his abdomen flexing with the movement.

“Look,” he continued, “you don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable or if you just don’t want to, but I’m not kicking you out either.

” He held up his hands, gesturing around the bedroom.

“I mean, I’d rather not have to spend another lonely night in this big, comfortable bed all by myself.

And you’re already here, so…” The dimple on his cheek came into view again when he cocked his head to the side, a close-lipped smile playing on his lips as he leaned back on his hands.

“Okay, fine.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “I need something to wear, though.” The throw blanket still around my shoulders was soft but not preferred over actual clothing.

He clapped once in response as he stood from the bed and strode toward the dresser next to me.

His bedroom, like the rest of the apartment, was minimalistic, simple, and clean.

It contained a bed (with bed sheets, a comforter, and pillowcases, I might add), a short dresser with a TV on top, and a desk.

In the corner sat two guitars, one acoustic and one electric, an electric keyboard, and a small amplifier.

I didn’t look around the room for long because my gaze was quickly drawn back to him in his tight boxers.

I let my eyes take their time traveling down his lean back, his ass, his muscular thighs.

He had more tattoos sprinkled all over his body.

A bow and arrow on his ribs under his right arm, a tarot card of The Fool on his right triceps, a broken sword from The Lord of the Rings on the back of his right calf.

The muscles in his shoulder danced as he dug through the dresser drawer, but I stopped gawking when he turned to face me.

“Does this work? They’re both clean, I swear. ”

He handed me a pair of thin cotton boxer briefs and a well-worn T-shirt.

“Well, I assumed they were , considering you pulled them out of the dresser, but now I’m questioning…”

He snickered as I turned my back to him, sliding the briefs on while the blanket still dangled over my shoulders.

The blanket dropped when I pulled the baggy T-shirt over my head.

It was the kind of shirt that had been worn and washed so many times that it had that perfectly soft, broken-in texture against my skin.

When I looked down at it, Jim Morrison’s face looked back up at me—one of The Doors’ album covers.

“Have you ever seen this movie?” Nate asked, taking up his spot again on the bed.

It was some newly released action comedy starring a comedian and a former heavyweight champion turned actor.

Not my typical kind of movie, but what the hell?

I told him I hadn’t and settled into the pillows next to him as he pressed play.

He scooted closer to me until our shoulders touched.

Considering what had transpired not thirty minutes before, sitting with our legs outstretched in front of us, arms touching from shoulder to elbow, felt so… sweet.

Innocent, even.

The corners of my mouth turned up.

I only got twenty minutes into the movie before I drifted to sleep.