Page 32 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

LAUREN

Will I never learn that I cannot drink coffee before bed?

Because it’s nearing two in the morning and I can’t stop tossing and turning.

The bed is cold, something I normally love, but tonight it’s chilling me down to my bones and I have no idea where any extra blankets are in Fitz’s house.

My feet feel like ice and I left my fuzzy socks at home, so in a nutshell.

I’m miserable. I’ve talked myself out of going out to the living room to ask Fitz for more blankets at least ten times.

I already took the man’s bed, the last thing I want to do is seem ungrateful, or like I need more from him.

I turn once more, trying to tuck myself in like a burrito to keep myself warm, but when an even colder part of the sheet hits my legs, I can’t fight it anymore.

I shoot out of the bed and quietly open the bedroom door.

I’m not sure why I’m worried about being quiet since I’m going to have to wake him up anyways to ask him where a mother freaking blanket might be hiding in this place.

When I round the corner and the couch comes into view, I see Fitz sitting straight up on the couch, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re still awake?” I ask in surprise.

“Uh, yeah. This couch is nice, but was clearly not made to be slept on.” He laughs, then his brows pull together. “Are you okay?” I’m not sure why that question seems to have such an impact on me. Maybe it’s the genuine concern in his tone when he asks.

“Oh, yeah. Uh… I’m just a little cold. Do you have any extra blankets hiding somewhere?” I fold my arms over my chest, remembering I’m not wearing a bra. Add how cold I am and my nipples are practically high beams against my thin T-shirt.

“Oh, I actually don’t.” My expression morphs into disbelief.

“You don’t own blankets other than your bed cover?” He chuckles and it seeps into my brain causing a wave of calmness to wash over me.

“I know. I’m a Neanderthal. I get insanely hot when I sleep so I’ve never had a need for them.

” He stands from the couch and begins walking in my direction.

I almost forgot how hot he looks in his Berkeley T-shirt and gray fucking sweatpants.

Walking around looking like every girl’s wet dream.

“Come on.” He bends down and before I know it, I’m thrown over his shoulder.

“Fitz!” I squeal. “What are you doing?” I feel the dip of the bed seconds before he’s laying me on my back, hovering inches above my face.

“Taking you to bed.” I mindlessly lick my lips, watching his eyes follow the movement. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help my girl get a good night’s sleep?” My clit throbs and I bite my tongue to distract myself from the ache between my legs.

Fake, Lauren. Fake girlfriend.

“Fitz, we can’t—” My words die on my lips when he kisses my nose.

“We could.” He dips down closer to my ear. “And we have .” Then he leans back, letting his knuckle brush against my nipple, though he doesn’t acknowledge it as he stands up, strips off his sweats, and T-shirt, and climbs back in bed.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

“But tonight, I only meant that I’m going to keep you warm.” I finally take a full breath, though I can’t identify the feeling in my chest when he moves away.

“You can do that with your clothes on!” I argue, trying not to stare at his abs and the way his forearms flex as he moves.

“Body heat works best without them.”

“Oh,” I manage to say, catching a smirk that makes me want to crawl under the bed and hide. Just in case he can somehow see how much I need to get off and gets any ideas. He pulls the covers back, lays down on his back, and holds his arm out to one side.

He wants to CUDDLE? I thought he just meant I could tuck my feet under his ass or something.

“We are not cuddling.” He sighs and sits up straighter in the bed, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Look, I don’t ask for much. But I am exhausted from traveling, I have to be up in three and a half hours for this conference, and I just want to know that you’re taken care of.

So will you please just lay your ass down, tuck your popsicles for feet under my calves, and go the hell to sleep?

” I stare at him, completely speechless.

“I promise as soon as the conference is over I will take you shopping for as many blankets as you can hold. Heated ones even, if that’s what you prefer. ”

“No, it’s fine. I mean…one will be fine.

” I can do this. It’s just cuddling. It’s just Fitz.

In his boxers. Telling me he wants to take care of me.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?

Why does he care? I thought we were just…

using each other? People who use each other don’t care about shit like that.

Do they? I guess I wouldn’t know, I’ve never fake-dated someone to help them take ownership of a company before. Maybe this is exactly what they do.

Fantastic, now I have a headache.

There’s no way in hell I’m asking him for medication though. Not after all of this.

“Come on, Trouble. I even said ‘please’.” I roll my eyes and scoot down under the covers, carefully and hesitantly resting my head on his chest. Just as I’m about to roll the other way and insist I’ll be fine, he wraps his arm around me, and I’m frozen.

I lay my hand on his stomach, feeling his abs flex beneath my fingertips.

Then I feel his lips against my hair and my eyes feel heavy.

“Sleep,” he whispers before kissing my head, but as I wait for him to pull away, he doesn’t. He stays pressed against me, and I finally start to relax.

“Hey Fitz?” I whisper into the darkness of the room.

“Yes, Trouble,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Thank you.”

“Mmm.”