Chapter 8

CHAPTEREIGHT

Ashlyn relaxed on Slate’s couch, tired and content, thinking about tomorrow. Carly and Jag had invited everyone to Duke’s on Sunday to try out different options for their wedding meal. Though, it was really just an excuse to get everyone together and have a good time, because everything Duke’s served was delicious. No matter what they chose, it would be perfect. Ashlyn was excited to spend time with all her friends.

Almost two weeks had passed since Slate had called to cancel their dinner date. Ashlyn knew she’d ordered too much food for him, but she’d wanted to get him everything he loved to try to make him feel better. If she couldn’t be there for him in person, she’d send food.

Luckily, it had worked. The next time Slate saw her, he’d shown her exactly much he appreciated the gesture. She hadn’t thought she could orgasm that many times in one night, but he’d proven just how much her body could take.

Their relationship seemed to be going strong. Even though they sometimes bickered over little things, she never felt as if Slate was truly irritated—or getting tired of her.

For her part, she was proud of his work as a SEAL, and the man made for great arm candy, but most importantly, she just liked being with him. It made her happy. They didn’t see each other every day, but they talked and texted frequently. Sometimes he’d call after he did PT, and other times he’d wait until they were both home from work. He always asked about her clients and continued to seem genuinely interested in the stories she shared about the men and women she served.

This morning, Slate had picked her up early and they’d spent the day hiking the Kealia Trail. It was on the north side of the island, and while it had lush scenery and beautiful ocean views from the summit, it had also kicked Ashlyn’s butt. She hadn’t thought she was out of shape, but apparently she was. When she finally ascended the mountain ridge, she felt as if she was gonna die.

Of course, Slate had no mercy for her, and instead of being overly concerned about how loud her breathing had become, he’d teased her and egged her on. It was just what she needed, though, to finish the hike.

Ashlyn couldn’t remember a better date with a guy. It was refreshing that she didn’t always need to be perfect around Slate. She could be sweaty and grumpy, wear a pair of sweats with her hair in a messy bun, and he didn’t care. He seemed to like her just as she was. Which was awesome.

Now, she was stiff and sore from the hike, but content. She and Slate were currently vegging on his couch after he’d made burgers for dinner, and she’d eaten two. She felt full and relaxed.

“Today was good,” she said after a moment.

Slate had turned on the TV and started the movie Red with Bruce Willis and Morgan Freeman. It was good, but Ashlyn was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. The exertion from the day, and the food in her belly, made her extremely sleepy.

“It was,” Slate agreed.

“I was thinking…” she started.

“Lord help us all,” Slate teased.

“Shut up,” Ashlyn said with a shake of her head. She did her best to elbow him, but because she was plastered to his side with his arm around her shoulders, it wasn’t very effective.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding very sorry. In fact, he sounded amused. “Go on.”

“I was thinking about how much things change, yet still stay the same. The other day, I was talking to James Mason—you know, the Navy vet I deliver to—and he was talking about how he and his wife used to go on long hikes around the island. He’d always bring a picnic lunch for them. Nothing fancy, usually sandwiches and potato chips. They’d find a good spot on the trail and sit and just enjoy each other’s company as they ate. Today reminded me of that.”

Slate squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah. It really was a good day.”

“I bet James would have some suggestions for other hikes we could do. Maybe ones that wouldn’t kick my ass as much as today’s did.”

Slate chuckled. “You did fine, babe.”

“Right. I was wheezing like an out-of-shape hippo.”

“No, you weren’t. Maybe an out-of-shape piglet—”

“Slate!” Ashlyn exclaimed, sitting up so she could elbow him properly.

“Kidding!” he said immediately, grabbing her arm. Then he shifted, lying down on the couch with her on top of him.

He was as hard as a rock beneath her, but surprisingly comfortable.

“You like him,” Slate said.

It took a second for Ashlyn to get her mind off how much she loved being on top of Slate. She could feel his cock between her legs. He wasn’t hard, but she had a feeling all it would take was a dirty comment or rubbing against him suggestively and that would change. She loved how responsive he was to her…just as she was to him. But for right now, she was enjoying the easy intimacy. The atmosphere wasn’t sexually charged, it was comfortable.

“James? Yeah, I do. Some older people I deliver food to are grumpy as hell. They complain about what I’ve brought, even though they’re getting it for free. They don’t invite me in and they definitely have no interest in getting to know me. But James is different. The first time I knocked on his door, he insisted I come inside. He got me a glass of ice water and told me how pretty I was.”

“He’s probably lonely. Didn’t you say his wife died recently?” Slate asked.

“Yeah, but I honestly think it’s just his personality to be welcoming and kind. He’s told me several times how his wife always used to get irritated with him because he befriended everyone he ever met. The guy behind the cash register at the grocery store, waiters and waitresses, clerks at the hardware store.

“He’s also told me about every single one of his neighbors. The man knows everything about everyone. Even the dirt,” Ashlyn said. “He told me about how the woman who used to live three doors down was having an affair with her son’s surfing instructor. One day her husband came home early from work, and the surfer guy had to bail out the window butt-ass naked.”

Slate chuckled. “James sounds like quite the character.”

“He is. He’s got quirks of his own too…including some that worry me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, last week when I got there, a handyman was just cleaning up after fixing a leak in the roof. Instead of writing a check, James walked over to a decorative jar on his kitchen table and pulled out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. He peeled off three and handed them to the guy. Then he put the rest back in the jar.” She shook her head. “After the man left, I asked why he had so much money hanging around, and he told me he didn’t trust banks. That after hearing what his parents had to do to survive the depression and the various crashes that happened throughout the years, he was more comfortable having his money close at hand.”

“That’s not smart,” Slate said with a frown.

“I know. I tried to convince him the world is very different now, and told him about the protective measures in place for money in the bank, but he just shrugged and told me he was old and set in his ways,” Ashlyn said. “It worries me for sure. But he’s eighty-eight, it’s not like he’s gonna earn much interest if he puts everything he has in the bank. I’m assuming, since he was approved to get deliveries from Food For All, that he’s not swimming in cash.”

“Maybe you should mention the next time you see him to at least not pull out a wad of cash like that in front of anyone again. It’s possible flashing money around will be too much temptation for someone and they’ll come back to rob him.”

“I already did,” Ashlyn said. “He laughed and said that he might be old, but he still knows how to shoot.”

She felt more than heard Slate chuckling under her. “I think I like this guy.”

“You would,” Ashlyn said. “I have a feeling he was bossy and overprotective as a younger man, just like you.”

Slate smiled at her. “I love how concerned you are for your clients,” he said. “You’re a good person, Ashlyn Taylor.”

“So are you, Duncan Stone.”

“How’d you ever find out my full name, anyway?” he asked.

Ashlyn mimicked zipping her lips shut. “I’ll never tell.” The truth was, during a conversation with the other women about the guys’ nicknames, she’d asked what Slate’s real name was. No one knew, and Elodie had made it her mission to find out. Within two days, she’d texted Ashlyn with Slate’s name.

“Doesn’t matter, really. It’s not like I’m ashamed of it or anything,” Slate said.

“It’s a good name. Strong, like you. Although I don’t know why people didn’t call you Stone instead of Slate.”

“Think it was because of my black hair. You know, black as slate,” he said.

Ashlyn thought it was kind of funny how his team all had nicknames. It seemed silly to her, but since she’d known him as Slate for so long, she couldn’t think of him any other way now.

Ashlyn opened her mouth to tell him how much she liked that thick black hair, but a huge yawn overtook her words.

Slate’s hand moved to the back of her head and he gently eased it down to his chest. “Rest, babe. You’re tired.”

She was, but she felt horrible about being bad company. “I’m okay,” she said.

“You can’t keep your eyes open,” he retorted with a small shake of his head. “Rest your eyeballs for a second.”

“Are you sure?” Ashlyn asked, already snuggling into him. Slate was always so warm, and she loved how they fit together so perfectly.

“Yup. I’m just gonna watch the movie.”

“Okay, wake me up when it’s over.”

He hummed in the back of his throat.

Ashlyn must’ve been more tired than she realized, because the last thing she remembered was the feel of Slate’s hand lightly caressing her hair…then nothing.

* * *

Ashlyn shifted, then grimaced as it became clear she’d overdone it on the hike with Slate. She was sore all over. She tried to roll to her other side to look at her clock and see what time it was—but a strong arm around her waist prevented her from turning.

Opening her eyes, she realized she wasn’t in her own bed.

The night before, talking with Slate, then falling asleep on his chest, came back to her in a flash—and she panicked.

Shit, she and Slate hadn’t done a sleepover before. They’d never even discussed it! If they had dinner together, they usually had sex afterward at one of their homes, then whoever didn’t live there got up and left. That routine was just fine with Ashlyn. She wasn’t offended when Slate left, and he never seemed upset to let her go.

But she had no idea how he would feel about her staying the night. Guys could get weird about that sort of thing. She didn’t want to rock the boat when everything between them was still so new.

She liked how things were going. She liked Slate, and she didn’t want him to think she needed to change their routine. Get more serious. Spending the night was definitely a big shift in the unspoken rules they’d been operating under for the last month or so.

“Morning,” Slate said sleepily.

Ashlyn wasn’t sure what she should do. Leap out of bed, apologize and hightail it out of there? Pretend it was perfectly normal to wake up in his bed, in his arms?

But Slate being Slate, he took the decision out of her hands. He gently tugged her shoulder until she was on her back next to him. Then he propped himself up on an elbow and kept his other arm around her waist. “What’s wrong?” he asked with a small frown.

For once, Ashlyn wished he wasn’t so freaking perceptive. “Nothing.”

“Babe.”

That was it. Just one word, but it was so full of skepticism, Ashlyn couldn’t help but blurt out her thoughts.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I mean, I did. You said I could. And you were so comfortable and I was tired from hiking. You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve left. I didn’t mean to alter our agreement.”

“Breathe, Ash, it’s fine. First of all, I encouraged you to sleep. I liked holding you while you conked out. You snore, you know.”

Ashlyn frowned. “I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s not a full-on snore, but you kind of snuffle in your sleep. It’s adorable.”

“Focus, Slate. And not on my non-snoring,” she told him.

“Sorry. I knew you were tired and had no problem with you taking a nap. When the movie ended, I tried to wake you up, but you were out. And I mean, out. I’m not even sure if sleeping that soundly is safe. Like, what if someone breaks into your apartment? Or if a fire breaks out? You’d probably sleep right through it.”

“I’ve always been a really deep sleeper,” Ashlyn admitted sheepishly.

“Right. One more thing I learned about you last night. That, and your snoring.”

“Stop it with the snoring thing,” Ashlyn griped. “I do not snore!”

“Riiiight. Okay. Anyway, I did try to wake you, and you slapped at me, told me to hush. So I carried you in here, stripped you naked, made long slow love to you, then went to sleep myself.”

Ashlyn stared at him blankly for a solid five seconds.

“You did not. I wouldn’t have slept through that.”

Slate had been keeping a straight face, but at her words, he laughed. “Damn straight, you wouldn’t have. I mean, what a slap in the face that would’ve been. Seriously though, I brought you in here, got you comfortable, then climbed in next to you. Slept fucking awesome too. You were like a rock. Once you’re out, you’re seriously out, babe. Works well for me, actually, since I’m a light sleeper. If you were the kind of sleeper who tossed and turned all night, it would’ve sucked because I’d constantly be waking up every time you moved.”

Ashlyn could only stare up at him. For the first time, she realized that all she had on was her panties. Slate had taken off her shirt, bra, and leggings. She wasn’t upset. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before. He’d seen everything she had to offer up close and personal. It was an intimate thing to do, getting her ready for bed, but she couldn’t deny that it was nice of him to take care of her when she’d been so tired.

“So you’re not upset that I stayed the night?” she blurted.

“Did you not hear anything I just said?” Slate asked.

“Um…yeah.”

“Then you weren’t paying close attention, because nothing I said could in any way indicate that I’m upset you stayed the night.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. You sore this morning?”

“Yes.”

“How sore?”

“Um, on a scale of one to ten, about a twelve.”

Slate nodded, leaned down, and kissed her forehead, then began to roll away.

“Slate?” Ashlyn asked, putting her hand out and touching his bare back. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. The muscles in his back rippled as he turned around to look at her.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you going?”

“Gonna get you some painkillers. Then start a bath for you. It’ll help your muscles relax a bit. How do you like your water? Warm, toasty, or boil-noodles hot?”

Ashlyn swallowed hard. She’d invaded his space without giving him a choice, and now he was continuing to take care of her because she’d overdone it the day before?

“Babe? How hot do you like your bath water?”

“A shade under boil-noodles hot,” she told him.

“Got it. Stay here and relax. I’ll be back in a moment with some water and the pills.”

“Will you be joining me?” Ashlyn blurted.

“Nope. Don’t do baths.”

“What about sex?”

“What about it?” Slate asked with a small tilt of his head.

“I…um…do you want it?”

A wicked smile crossed his face. “Hell yes. But you’re sore. I’m not going to wither away and die if I don’t get inside your delectable pussy this morning. While you’re in the bath, I’ll make us some breakfast. Maybe we can take a leisurely walk along Waikiki Beach before we meet the others at Duke’s. Stretching your muscles will also help. But if you’ve got things you need to do this morning, that’s okay too.”

Something had suddenly changed between them, and Ashlyn wasn’t quite sure how to process it. “It’s Sunday. I’m usually lazy on Sundays, so no, I don’t have anything I need to do before we meet everyone at Duke’s.”

“Great. Stay put. I’ll be back.”

Then Slate twisted a bit more, kissed her on the lips briefly, and stood.

Ashlyn kept her gaze on his back as he disappeared inside his small walk-in closet. He reappeared a few seconds later wearing a pair of black sweatpants and headed for the bathroom door. She heard the water turn on and in a minute or so, he came back into the room. He gave her a smile, then left without a word to go to the kitchen and get her some painkillers.

The second he was out of sight, Ashlyn flopped back on the bed and let out a long, slow breath. She was happier than she could say that he hadn’t flipped out over her still being there this morning. She felt bad that she hadn’t woken up when he’d carried her into his room, but relieved that things between them still seemed to be all right.

She liked Slate. He was a good man. She wasn’t ready for things to end. And it seemed as if she didn’t need to worry about that yet.

Ashlyn had no doubt that eventually they’d get sick of each other. She’d find herself becoming more and more annoyed at things he did. As he likely would with her. It always happened.

But for now, she was going to enjoy Slate taking care of her…and her hot bath.

* * *

“You look great!” Lexie exclaimed later that day.

The day had been relaxed so far, and Ashlyn couldn’t remember a better “morning after” than the one she’d shared with Slate. He’d brought her a glass of water and pills—bossily ordering her to drink all the water. She humored him, and only blushed a little when he took her hand and led her to the bathroom. She might’ve had sex in countless positions with the man, but walking around mostly naked in the light of day was a different thing altogether. But he didn’t make it weird. Simply pointed out the extra toothbrush he’d unearthed from a drawer and left her alone in the bathroom.

The temperature of the bathwater was perfect, and she stayed in the tub until she felt like a prune. Then she showered, washed her hair with Slate’s shampoo, and got dressed before joining him in the kitchen.

He’d made a potato, egg, and spinach casserole and pulled it out of the oven as soon as he saw her. They’d talked more about James and the Turner family over breakfast, as well as a new Japanese couple who’d moved to the island and hadn’t quite gotten on their feet yet. He talked about how things were currently pretty intense at work, and that there was a chance he and his team would be deployed soon.

She didn’t like to think about that, but as it was a part of who Slate was, she didn’t shy away from asking him a million questions. He couldn’t answer most of them, and she understood why.

After breakfast, he’d followed Ashlyn to her apartment so she could change and get ready for their outing at Duke’s. They’d walked up and down the Waikiki beach, people watching and making up stories about some of the more flamboyant characters they saw. And now they were at the restaurant with the rest of their friends.

“Seriously,” Lexie repeated. “You’re glowing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were pregnant.”

Ashlyn nearly spit out the sip of mai tai she’d just taken. Slate had handed it to her when she was talking with her friends earlier. She had no plans to drive for the rest of the day, so she felt comfortable imbibing a bit…and obviously Slate knew that.

“Jeez, I’m not pregnant,” Ashlyn said when she had herself under control.

“I’m with Lexie. You look different. Not bad different, just…different,” Kenna said as she took a sip of her own drink.

“I’m the same person I’ve always been,” Ashlyn told them.

“Things with Slate are going well,” Elodie said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad,” Elodie added.

“And the casual thing is still the plan?” Carly asked.

“Of course. Why?” Ashlyn asked.

“No reason. I just… Never mind.”

“Seriously, what?” Ashlyn insisted.

“Okay, but you can’t get mad. I was just thinking that I’ve never seen Slate look so…calm. Usually, he seems as if he’s on the verge of throwing up his hands and saying ‘fuck this’ and storming out of the room.”

“I agree,” Monica said. She had a glass of water in her hand instead of a cocktail on account of her pregnancy. “His eyes used to roam the room pretty constantly, as if he’s always looking for danger or some excuse to leave. Lately, his gaze has been glued on you.”

Her friends’ words made a warm glow spread within Ashlyn. She shrugged. “He’s a protector. You guys know that because your men are the same way. It’s just who he is.”

“You’re right,” Lexie said. “But it seems more intense now.”

“He’s always watched you, but lately it’s different,” Elodie agreed.

“Well, we’re having sex,” Ashlyn said matter-of-factly. “Our relationship has changed. It’s more personal. And maybe he’s just watching me more intently today because we didn’t have sex last night or this morning, and now he’s horny.” She tried to blow off her friends’ words, because thinking about any kind of permanent relationship with Slate was dangerous. They both knew the score, and she wasn’t going to mess with that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lexie said as she narrowed her eyes. She looked around then leaned into Ashlyn. “Last night or this morning? Did you stay the night? Or did he?”

Ashlyn sighed. She loved her friends, but they were way too observant sometimes. And had memories like elephants when it suited them. “Yes. I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep on his couch. He couldn’t wake me up because of how heavy I sleep, so he carried me to bed.”

All five of her friends sighed as if that was the most romantic thing they’d ever heard.

“You do sleep like the dead,” Kenna said after a moment. “That first sleepover we had, I felt bad because we were all being so loud while you were sleeping, but you didn’t even flinch.”

“But things are okay?” Lexie asked, putting her hand on Ashlyn’s arm.

She nodded. She’d confided in Lexie not too long ago that she and Slate had never spent the entire night together, and that she worried about how it could affect their relationship for the worse if they took that step.

“It’s good. Really good, actually,” Ashlyn said.

“Hey, guys, they’re ready for us!” Jag called out. They’d all been hanging out in the bar area at Duke’s until the food was ready. Alani, the manager, had set up a few tables in one corner of the restaurant for their party.

The women all headed for their men, but Elodie caught Ashlyn’s arm, holding her back for a second. “I’m happy for you,” she said.

“Thanks,” Ashlyn said with a smile.

“I know you plan to keep things casual, but I just have to say…don’t be afraid to go after what you want.”

Ashlyn stared at the other woman. Elodie had been through hell, and somehow she’d managed to come out the other side with not only her sanity intact, but with a man who would move heaven and earth to make sure she was safe and had everything she’d ever wanted.

“What I want is to have a good time. Date a man who isn’t a jerk, isn’t trying to mooch off me, and who likes me for who I am. So far, Slate is that man. I’m not ready to settle down. I don’t want to get married right now, and I definitely don’t want children at this point in my life.”

“I just don’t want you to be too stubborn. Or regret giving up what could be the best thing to ever happen to you,” Elodie said.

“Slate’s a good man. Actually, he’s a great man. But I’m not sure he’s ‘the one.’ How can I know when I’ve been in so few serious relationships?” Ashlyn said. “We’re taking things one day at a time. We’re enjoying each other’s company and the sex is out of this world. The last thing I want to do is screw it up by moving too fast.”

“I understand,” Elodie said. “Just don’t let your hormones overrule your good sense.”

Ashlyn opened her mouth to ask what she meant by that, but an arm wrapped around her waist. “All the good shit’ll be gone if you don’t get a move on,” Slate said impatiently.

Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “Always in a hurry,” she teased.

“Hell yeah I am, when it comes to beating these guys out for food,” Slate said.

“Lexie looks like she’s ready to fight someone if they get too close to those chicken wings she’s been salivating about since she heard they were going to be on the menu,” Elodie remarked.

They headed for the corner, where everyone was filling their plates with samples. Slate leaned down and whispered, “You good?”

Ashlyn stopped and looked up at him. “Yeah, why?”

“You get uncomfortable when you’re the center of everyone’s attention, and it looked like things were kind of intense for a while there.”

Ashlyn was surprised he knew that about her, but she supposed she shouldn’t be. They’d known each other for quite a while now, even if they’d only been officially dating for a month or so. “I’m fine. They just wanted to know if you were good in bed.”

Slate blinked.

Ashlyn couldn’t keep a straight face. She burst out laughing. “Oh my God, if you could only see your face.”

“Brat,” Slate growled. “I was trying to be nice.”

Ashlyn sobered and put her hand on Slate’s arm. “I’m sorry. I know you were, and I appreciate it. I’m good. They were just saying that they thought I looked really happy. And I am, Slate. I was worried this morning that you’d think I was overstepping the boundaries we’d put up as to how things should work in our relationship. But you made everything seem normal. It’s been a really awesome day, and I’m very satisfied with how things are going between us.”

“I don’t like rules in my relationships,” he told her seriously. “I have enough fucking rules I have to follow at work. I want things between us to progress naturally. I had no problem with you staying the night, Ashlyn. I was actually relieved you wouldn’t be driving alone that late…something that bothers me every time you leave my place. And I wasn’t lying when I said I slept really well. I’m not ready to move in together or anything, but staying the entire night, either at your place or mine, is definitely not off the table as far as I’m concerned.”

Ashlyn grinned. “I feel the same.”

“Good. Now can we go get something to eat?” he asked.

Even though he was trying to act put out, Ashlyn could tell he was relieved by her response. “Yes.” Then she put her hand on the side of his face and waited until he met her gaze. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Slate asked.

“For being you.”

The words didn’t accurately portray what she wanted him to know. How glad she was that he was the kind of man who worried about his girlfriend driving home late at night, even if she was perfectly capable of doing so. That he was concerned about her being sore. That he drew her a bath, then took her for a leisurely walk when he could’ve been doing something more productive. That he seemed worried her friends were giving her a hard time. That he listened to her stories about her clients when she was well aware he worried about her going to so many people’s houses.

She was glad he was the man he was in so very many ways.

Slate must have understood the deeper meaning behind her words, because he didn’t make a joke. He just nodded, then leaned down to kiss her. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, he covered her lips with his and demanded entry to her mouth. The kiss seemed…more intense than usual, for some reason. More meaningful.

When he pulled back, Ashlyn licked her lips and stared up at him. He brought his hand to her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her skin in a gentle caress before nodding again, grabbing her hand, then towing her toward their friends.

* * *

Later that night, after Carly and Jag had decided on what dishes to serve at their wedding, after she’d laughed with her friends until her stomach hurt, after stopping back at Slate’s house so he could grab his PT clothes for Monday morning, after dinner—during which Slate had pulled out a gallon of Duke’s mai tais he’d somehow conned Carly into letting him take out, even though it was illegal—after getting drunk on said mai tais, and after Slate had fucked her on her couch, against a wall, gone down on her until she begged for mercy, and then made long, slow, sweet love to her, Ashlyn lay boneless and completely relaxed against him in her bed.

“Still sore?” he asked softly as he ran his hand up and down the bare skin of her back.

Ashlyn couldn’t help but laugh. “I can barely remember my name after all the alcohol and the orgasms. I wouldn’t know if I was sore if my life depended on it.”

Slate chuckled.

A comfortable silence descended between them for a minute or two. Then Slate said, “Had another really good day.”

Ashlyn grinned against him, feeling his words warm her down to her toes. “Me too.”

“Who’s on your schedule tomorrow?” he asked.

She snorted. “No clue. And you don’t really expect me to think right now, do you?”

“I think I like you like this.”

“Like how?”

“Tipsy. And in a sex coma.”

Ashlyn giggled. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Gonna get up early to head to PT. You want me to wake you up before I go or let you sleep?” he asked.

“Wake me up,” she said immediately.

“You gonna be able to be woken up?” he retorted.

“Yes,” she said somewhat huffily. “I’m only a super-deep sleeper right after I lay down. In the morning, after I’ve gotten my beauty sleep, I wake up easily.”

“All right, babe. I’ll put a glass of water next to the bed. Be sure to drink it all without giving me shit about it, okay?”

“I’m not that drunk,” she protested, even though it had been quite a while since she’d had as much alcohol as she’d had today.

“Still,” he said.

“Fine, Mr. Bossypants. I’ll drink it.”

“Thank you.”

It was nice to have him here. When they’d first started dating Ashlyn remembered thinking she was glad to have her bed to herself after sex. But now she couldn’t think of one good reason why she’d want to be alone. He was warm, he liked to snuggle, and despite his hard body, he made an excellent pillow.

“Ash?”

“Hmmm?” she said, on the verge of falling asleep.

After a long pause, he answered, “Sleep well.”

She had the fleeting thought that those words weren’t what he’d meant to say, but she was too tired and replete to question him. “You too.”