23. Things that Apparently Turn On Nathan Hunt

TWENTY-THREE

#3 me in a tshirt???

"Are you dressed?"

A quiet knock sounded on Nathan's door, and then it opened. He popped his head in, eyes covered.

"Like a nun," I called from where I sat on top of his king-size bed, scrolling on my phone and enjoying the view of the Hudson River and the Gutenberg, New Jersey skyline twinkling from the other side. "Come on, get in here. Your brother's going to think it's weird that you're knocking to come in to a bedroom we supposedly share."

Nathan edged into the room and uncovered his eyes. "What are you wearing?"

I stopped scrolling and looked down at myself with a frown. "Oh, no, did I get toothpaste on me? Lea says I'm a disaster in the bathroom."

"You're—well, yes, you are, but it doesn't bother me—still, that's my—Jesus."

I looked back up to where Nathan was standing at the end of the bed, one of his oversized pillows pressed to his front, and his eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"Joni, that's my shirt. Just my shirt."

I looked back down at the Columbia Medical School shirt I'd found neatly folded in his top drawer. It was enormous. Because Nathan was enormous. And it smelled like him too—like sandalwood and coffee and very clean soap.

In other words, like heaven. I was considering wearing it forever.

"Well, I have underwear on too," I finally said. "I didn't think you'd mind if I borrowed something since I cadn't exactly go back into my bedroom and ask Carrick for some pj's. It would give the whole game away, don't you think?"

Nathan just groaned and mumbled something unintelligible to himself. "I—it's fine. I just didn't realize…"

I grinned as I looked him over myself. "Aw, you're so cute in your full pajamas. My nonno used to wear ones like that. But won't you be kind of hot?"

The apartment wasn't an oven or anything, but Nathan had a pretty heavy-duty duvet. I already knew a T-shirt and underpants were going to be plenty for me.

Nathan looked down at the blue and red plaid flannel set he had changed into, then back at me with a frown. "I thought you'd appreciate some extra clothes. My mother gave me these a few years ago. I've never worn them."

I snorted as I looked back at my phone. "Please. Don't incinerate on my behalf. What do you usually wear to sleep?"

"Typically just my underwear. I keep the apartment at sixty-four degrees at night. Studies show the body maintains a more natural circadian rhythm when it sleeps at a temperature below sixty-five."

I'm not going to lie. My nipples popped right out when he started nerding out like that. He really had no idea the effect it had on me.

So I continued to stare at my phone, pretending to examine a video about cat zoomies so my body could calm the heck down. No need to be flashing my headlights at the poor man right before bed.

He was obviously uncomfortable enough with this arrangement.

"Well, don't melt," I told him. "Even if you sleep naked, it's just a body. We're already not getting enough sleep as it is."

He seemed to think about that for a long minute. Then, while I was specifically not looking, I couldn't exactly miss it when he unbuttoned the shirt and removed it. Or when he took off the pants, revealing tight black boxer briefs that left very little of what was obviously a considerable package to the imagination. Or flashed a stupidly ripped set of muscles and a generous patch of curls over his chest before he slid under the covers.

Nathan took off his glasses, set them on his nightstand, and closed his eyes all over again.

"Everything okay?" I asked, looking up from my phone as if I hadn't just been ogling him via my peripheral vision.

"Yes, I—" he cleared his throat. "This just isn't what I expected to be doing tonight."

"Babe, I don't think either of us was expecting a sleepover, but here we are." I put my phone on the bedside table and pulled my knees up to my chest. "I'm on the right side, aren't I?"

He coughed. "Uh, yes. You're on the right side."

"Then…are you going to open your eyes? You're acting kind of weird."

His eyes remained closed. "That's because this is kind of weird."

Well. Couldn't argue there.

"It's not that weird." Okay, maybe I could argue a little.

"It is. You're my roommate. And my pseudo-girlfriend, who should be sleeping in a different room. This was only going to work if we had clear boundaries. Instead, you're in my bed, and you don't have pants on, and we've kissed multiple times."

By the time Nathan was done, he was scrubbing his hand over his face so roughly, his cheeks were red.

I honestly didn't know what to make of it. Okay, sure, things were a little muddled. But he didn't seem to hate kissing me. And he also seemed to like my legs, or at least looked at them like he did. We'd spent half the evening curled up together on the couch. Why did a bed have to be so different?

Was I that disgusting? Or maybe just embarrassing?

"Those things…are all true," I started slowly. "But they only have to be weird if we let them be."

One brown eye opened. "Explain."

"Well, those kisses were just for show, weren't they?"

No response. So, I went on.

"And, come on, haven't you ever had a sleepover before?"

The expression in that eye let me know he wasn't a monk.

"I don't mean like that," I said. "I mean, like…I don't know. Didn't you ever spend the night at a friend's house when you were a kid? Or have to share a bed with one of your brothers or something on a road trip?"

The thought made me giggle. The idea of Nathan and Carrick, two linebacker-sized men, wedged into a double bed at a roadside motel, was too funny not to. Lord, I bet they were enormous as teenagers. All arms and legs and glasses and growls.

The other eye opened, but neither of them seemed to understand what I was talking about. "Ah, no. I can't say we ever had to share a bed when we traveled or any other time."

I almost asked why, but then I remembered. Right. Nathan was rich. At least his family was rich. He had probably never even been to a roadside motel, much less had to share a bed in one. Or at home, for that matter.

"Well, I did," I said. "Marie and I shared a bed until I was eight, and my brother moved out. My older sisters fought like alley cats over who was going to get the attic. Me, I was just excited to have my own mattress." Suddenly, I was done playing games. I huffed and threw back the blankets. "Just explain what is the freaking matter. You're acting like I'm a leper, and if you even look at me, you're going to get some horrible disease. Is it that bad having me next to you? Should I sleep on the floor? Or go back to my sister's break room?"

"No!" The word came down like a hammer, slamming between us. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're obviously not fine. You're so stiff, you're basically a Lego Man, and you look like you're in pain. What is going on?"

"Jesus, Joni, if you must know, it's because seeing you in that gave me an enormous fucking erection, and it's not going away!" Nathan exploded, face toward the ceiling, the wall, literally anything in the room but me. "I'm the one who suggested this charade, and now I'm sitting here like a thirteen-year-old boy who just saw a pretty girl's bra strap. It's fucking embarrassing."

My mouth fell open. I honestly had no words. And that was a first—I always had something to say.

I looked back down at myself, trying to figure out what exactly was so appealing. I was ready for bed in the oldest T-shirt I could find in Nathan's drawers, plain black underpants that wouldn't impress anyone, makeup scrubbed from my face, and my hair tossed up with a bright pink scrunchy.

"This is what does it for you?" I asked, genuinely shocked. "Not the pretty dresses or the red slip, but a ratty T-shirt and underwear?"

"Apparently." The word was mumbled through his fingers. "I'm a surgeon, for Christ's sake. I've seen literally hundreds of bodies."

"I mean…how big a boner are we talking?"

It was the best thing I could think of to break the ice. Because that's what you should do when the beautiful, socially awkward man pretending to be your boyfriend confesses to having a giant hard-on just from the sight of your legs and how you look in his shirt. Ask for his measurements.

"Like this?" I held my hand about four inches apart. "Or this?" Six inches. "Tell me when." I kept going. And going. And going.

All I received was a brown-eyed glare that made me want to cover that face with kisses.

"Big. Dick. Energy," I whispered before slapping my hand over my mouth as another giggle escaped.

His head jerked toward me. "What?"

"Nothing!" I sang out. "I'm just being twelve!"

"What did you say?" he demanded. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No," I said through an avalanche of giggles. "Yes. But no, not really. I just…well, I fucking knew it!"

Nathan's deep scowl only made me laugh harder. "What the hell did you know?"

"You got that swagger, baby. That B.D.E. You don't even know—oh my God, just call me Ariana Grande!" I could barely speak through the laughter. Tears were starting to stream down my face, and before I knew it, I was whooping into a pillow. "Oh, God! Oh my God!"

"Who?" Nathan demanded again. "What the fuck are you talking about? Just explain!"

Before I knew it, we were playing some kind of demented game of tag in his giant bed, both of us half-laughing, half-shouting while I wriggled helplessly, and Nathan seemed to alternate between wanting to shake me in frustration and sit on his own hands to stop himself. In the tussle, the blanket fell off us both, once again revealing my bare legs (and apparently Nathan's kryptonite) and Nathan's shameful response to them through his boxer briefs. Which, if I was being honest, was nothing to be ashamed of. Not. At. All.

My eyes practically bugged out of my head. "Holy guacamole, Batman."

Nathan turned about the color of a beet while he scrambled to right the covers. "You're impossible. What the hell is ‘big dick energy' and what does it have to do with a pop singer?"

I sighed as I sank back into my side of the bed, squeezing my legs together and now realizing that it was, indeed, going to be a very long night. "It means you have a really big cock, Nathan. And it means I appreciate it. You're welcome."

There was a long pause beside me. And then I felt, rather than saw, him relax a little. "Oh. Thanks. I guess."

I nodded as I stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to catch my breath. "Anytime, baby. Someday, you're going to make some nice woman very happy. Is that clear enough for you?"

Now, I was the one who couldn't look at him. Not when my mouth was completely dry from hanging open, panting like a dog. Or when I was sure lust was probably scrawled all over my face. Even Nathan couldn't misinterpret that expression.

When my heart had finally stopped banging like a drum, I got up the nerve to look at him. Nathan was watching me intently right back. Watching my whole face. My eyes, yes. But also my quivering chin. My bottom lip tucked between my teeth.

He leaned closer. "I think you…"

I sucked in a breath. "I what?"

Nathan's eyes dilated as they focused on my mouth. "That you…"

But before he could finish, there was a loud knock on the door.

"What?" Nathan barked as he yanked the blankets up to his chest. I did the same, even though I was covered.

The door opened, and Carrick's head popped around it, one hand pressed to his eyes.

"Look," he said curtly. "As happy as I am that you're finally getting laid, you think you can wait until I'm gone to make your woman lose her mind? Otherwise, get some fucking soundproofing. Generally, I'm down, but not when it's my goddamn brother playing dirty Dom in the room next door. You got me?"

I folded my mouth but couldn't help but collapse into another fit of giggles, this time shoving my face into Nathan's deltoid while my body shook uncontrollably.

Nathan's sides shook as, once again, he rubbed his forehead like he was about to lose his mind. "We understand."

"Good."

The door slammed, and we listened to my bedroom door close a moment later.

Nathan turned to me. Something like humor danced in those big brown eyes. "This is going to be a really…hard…week, isn't it?"

I bit back a laugh. "You and your jokes."

That quirk turned into a grin. It made me feel like I was floating in the middle of the room.

"It's gonna be rough," I confirmed as I grabbed Nathan's face and stamped a kiss on that chiseled cheek. "But don't worry, babe. My nonna always says misery loves company, and there's no one I'd rather be miserable with in this bed than you."