Page 36 of The Substitute

I blink to clear my head and look toward my book, but my eyes are on the window, waiting for the next strike. Shame burns my face when it happens, when I jump at nothing.

“Tobi?” Ambrose lifts his head to look at me, but he’s groggy, and his eyes are barely slits.

Having him on me is making me itchy now. I need him to go away. He can’t see me like this, witness another of my shame-filled moments.

I can’t get enough air with him on me. It’s too much. I need him to get off me.

“I’m fine,” I bite out, afraid he’ll see the cracks. Shoving at him with shaking hands, I sit up and force myself to crawl out from under him and off the bed. I want to accept the offer for comfort. I want to let him give me a hug and tell me I’m okay. But I can’t take any more fucking pity. Yet with every clap of thunder, my body coils tighter.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ambrose puts a hand on my arm, stopping me from leaving the room. The window rattles when the next crack of thunder hits, and I curl in on myself, dropping to the floor and wrapping my arms around my head while I tremble.

Ambrose wraps his arms around me, cradling me to his chest and pushing my face into his neck while rubbing my back. “Shh, you’re okay.”

The warmth of his skin under my cheek does more to calm my racing heart than anything else could. He smells clean, like body wash and whatever deodorant he uses, but no cologne. Maybe he doesn’t wear that after practice?

“Thank you,” I mumble against his skin.

“You’re welcome.”

“This doesn’t mean you just get to cuddle attack me whenever you want, though! I do have to study sometimes.”

He snorts a laugh and slides one hand into my too long hair, scraping his nails gently over my scalp. Goosebumps rocket across my body, forcing a moan from me.

Fucking hell.My face heats with embarrassment for a new and exciting reason. I don’t need him to think I’m getting hard right now.

“Can we sit on the bed? The floor is hard as shit.”

“You’re really demanding, you know that?” I sass him in an attempt to break the tension ratcheting up in my body.

He chuckles, and it’s a deep sound that makes me think of sex. “Yeah, I can be.” His hand tightens in my hair for just a second—just long enough to let me know it wasn’t an accident. Damn. That’s hot.

No. Stop it.

You will not get hard over your roommate. Let alone one who plays hockey. I have a good thing going with him. I can’t let myself ruin it like I did with Rhys.

Ambrose shoves an arm under my legs, keeps one at my back, and stands. It doesn’t take us long to get situated, this time with Ambrose sitting against the wall and me in his lap like a fucking child.

“Show off,” I mutter into his skin.

Thunder booms again, and this time, I’m unprepared. I can’t stop the whimper or the tightening of my body around him. He tells me again that I’m okay, soothing me with a hand on my back. It’s disturbing how much I like it, how much I want to sink into him and let him comfort me.

Christ, this is embarrassing.

“Why don’t you like storms?” His voice is quiet, and I don’t hear any judgement, just interest.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “They’ve always bothered me.”

“What do you normally do during them?” Ambrose plays with the edge of my shirt, his fingers brushing my bare skin.

“Panic,” I say by accident.

His fingers on my lower back shouldn’t be this distracting. I tense when thunder booms again, but Ambrose flattens his palm against me, diverting my attention.

One hand moves to the outside of my thigh, squeezing the muscle, while the other drags barely there fingertips up and down my spine. The difference in pressure keeps my head busy bouncing back and forth.

I want to touch him too, but I don’t know if I should or if I can. Would he be able to tell that I don’t have much experience? Just the threat of being called out keeps me from moving.

The hand on my thigh moves higher, and I squirm. Christ, I want him to touch me. I wriggle again but freeze when I realize he’s hard. Does that mean he wants this, too? Slowly, I slide my hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, testing the waters. Savage liked it when I did it…maybe Ambrose will too?