Page 35 of The Substitute

He starts over and looks at the mess on my bed, then shoves it to one side.

“What the hell are you doing?”

In the next instant, his shirt is gone, and he’s laying down half on top of me, which forces me to lie down too.

“Ambrose! What are you doing?” I’m trying not to laugh or groan because I love how his weight feels on me. He’s like the best-smelling weighted blanket, but even better with his skin touching mine. My entire body relaxes, but my arms hang in the air like I’m afraid to touch him.

I kind of am, if I’m being honest. He’s gorgeous, smells amazing, and is so warm. My cock is taking notice, and that’s the last thing I want to discuss with him. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore but not like I’d know how to make a move even if I wanted to.

“See how much better this is?” He nuzzles into my chest.

“I was trying to study.”

He picks his head up to look into my eyes. “Do you want me to get up?”

Fucking evil.

“I didn’t think so,” he says when I don’t answer.

Ambrose wraps his arm around my waist and shoves it under me, then pushes his knee between mine. He’s really getting comfortable like I wasn’t studying. The bastard.

“Cuddles are better for sleeping.”

“So why don’t you find someone to cuddle with?”

“I did. You. Shh. I’m sleeping.”

I drop my head back to the wall with a thud. “Ouch, fuck.” I huff out a breath and lift my book to keep reading, but now I can’t reach my notebook. “I need my notebook.”

“Ugh. You’re so needy,” Ambrose whines, but he lifts his head and reaches for one of the notebooks.

“Not that one, the one next to it.” I smile in spite of myself. It’s been so easy to spend time with him, I almost forgot he plays hockey.

He points to the one I need, and I tell him yes, so he hands it to me before settling back down. It’s a matter of seconds before his breathing has evened out, and his body relaxes into sleep. I want to hate this. I want to shove him off me and make him leave me alone.

But I don’t.

A part of me is desperate for this. For the human contact.

After spending time with both of them, I’m acutely aware of just how touch-starved I am. I crave the contact in a way I never have before, but it also scares the shit out of me. What if I get used to it, rely on it, and both of them decide I’m too much or not enough, or they fall for each other so they don’t need me?

What if they think I’m using them? Surely they’ll hate that I’m doing this with both of them, right? But they both know. They talk—or more like brag—to each other, and I’ve told them what I did with the other. So is it wrong? I hate that I’m even worried. But I can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

I get back to studying, secretly loving every second of the cuddling and how safe Ambrose must feel with me in order to fall asleep like this. The warmth of his body seeps into my bones, and his weight calms my nervous system. I could fall asleep like this.

By the time I’m almost done with the chapter, I see it. The bright flash that illuminates the room for a split second. My body tenses on instinct, waiting, preparing for what comes next.My pulse hammers through my body, and I don’t know how it doesn’t wake Ambrose when I can feel it everywhere. It doesn’t matter how often it happens, I hate it. The crack of thunder like an invisible whip makes me flinch.

I know it’s stupid. I know it’s just a damn sound. But that doesn’t stop me from reacting to it.

Every.

Single.

Time.

“You okay?” Ambrose mumbles, half asleep.

“Fine.”