21. Ella

CHAPTER 21

ELLA

I wake up to soft snores and an arm draped over me, holding me tight. A warmth settles in my belly, and for a few moments, I am so content. I could really get used to this—to waking up next to someone and having them hold me in a way that makes me think they never want to let me go.

Except, I can't. Because it's Xavier. And we are just friends. Well, friends who fuck. But still, just friends. He wasn't supposed to sleep over, but once again he's still here.

Memories of our conversation as I drifted off to sleep last night come back to me. He made me promise not to fall in love with him, and I did. I made the promise. But right in this moment with his arm around me, listening to his slow and deep breaths, I can see myself falling if I'm not careful.

Everything with Xavier is just… easy. The conversation, the sex, the comfort. I can be myself around him so easily, he's making me feel safe enough to fall. But at the same time, he's the one who doesn't want a relationship, so why is he making it so easy?

Xavier begins to stir next to me, slowly waking up. His arm tightens around me and he pulls me in even closer. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, enjoying the moment a little longer. I place my arm on top of his and lace our fingers together. He kisses me on the shoulder, and I sigh. "Good morning." I whisper .

"Good morning," he replies. His voice is still sleepy, giving it a deep and raspy sound. It's sexy .

"You slept over again," I said. I roll over so that we are facing each other. He still has his eyes closed as he struggles to wake up fully.

"I know. I wasn't going to, but you were falling asleep in my arms and I didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"No, it's fine. It's just… we agreed, no sleepovers. And so far, we've had two." And if we keep doing this, it's almost a guarantee that I will fall for you. I don't say that part out loud, of course.

"Yeah, it seems we aren't very good at sticking to our own rules." He chuckles, opening his eyes and looking at me, dopily. "We can stop doing this, if that's what you prefer."

"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean… I don't know. I like sleeping next to you," I admit.

"I like sleeping next to you, too," he says with a smile.

And yet you're the one wanting to keep this platonic , I want to say."Let's just play it by ear. If we stay up really late or there's alcohol involved, then we can make an exception. But if it's just a daytime hook up or quick booty call, then we stick to the rules," I suggest.

"Yeah, I think that'll work. But just remember to be honest and if it starts to become too much—if you think you're getting attached—you need to tell me, and we will stop," he says.

If I'm getting attached. Not him, me. Because obviously he won't get attached, he won't develop feelings and overthink and analyse every little moment between us, wondering if things will change. Hoping it could lead to more. No, that will only happen to me.

"Yeah, I will." I probably won't.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asks.

"I am. I think you distracted me enough." I smile. At least that much is true. What we did last night completely wiped my brain of any bullshit to do with work. I couldn't think of anything else but him.

"Perfect. I'm glad I could help."

I close my eyes and we both just lie there, embracing the morning silence. I don't have anything planned today, so there's no rush to get out of bed. I open my eyes slightly and see Xavier has closed his again. I watch him for a while, taking in all of his gorgeous features. His enviable long lashes, the different coloured hairs smattered throughout his beard, his perfect lips that are parted slightly as he breathes deeply. He has a few freckles across his nose and a scar just above his left eyebrow. I get butterflies just looking at him—I've never felt this level of attraction or comfort with any man in my life.

"Ella," he murmurs, eyes still closed.

"Yeah?"

"I can feel you staring at me. Why are you being a creep?" His eyes flutter open and yep, I'm still staring. We both laugh.

"I can't help myself." I say. "You're just so…"

"Perfectly handsome and sexy?" He smirks.

"Wow, so humble." I smile. He's not wrong though. "I was going to say you look so content."

"The humblest of humble. But yeah, I feel pretty content. Your bed is just so comfy. You're okay too, I guess," he jokes.

I go to smack him on the arm but he catches my hand and brings it to his lips, placing a quick kiss on my palm. He then pulls me in and kisses me slow and deep—the type of kiss that steals the breath right out of your lungs. There's no intent in the kiss. There's no rush, no adrenaline. We make out lazily, hands trailing each other's bodies, his tongue slowly sweeping in and out of my mouth, exploring. We continue to do this, for how long I'm not sure. He kisses my cheek, then my nose, then both of my eyelids, and then finally my forehead. He rests there for a while, holding me close.

"What time is it?" he whispers.

"I don't know. I can check, but you'd have to let me go," I whisper back. He chuckles and pulls away from me, reaching for his phone on the bedside table. He checks the time and swears under his breath.

"Shit. It's 10:30. I have to go; I start work at 12." He untangles himself from me and the sheets that were wrapped around us, then he climbs out of bed. Immediately, all of the warm, cosy, and content feelings disappear. So much for not having to rush for anything this morning.

"Oh yeah, hospitality workers work weekends. I forgot," I say. I'm trying to not act disappointed that he has to leave. I'm not allowed to feel disappointed.

"I'm sorry, I'd like nothing more than to just laze around in bed with you all day." He finds his clothes on the floor that were discarded during last night's tryst, pulls on his shorts, and throws on his t-shirt. "Have you got much planned for the weekend?" he asks.

"Not really," I reply. "Just reading and life admin. It's getting close to Christmas, and my birthday, so I've got some things to plan."

He cocks his head. "When is your birthday?" he asks.

"January 2 nd . Millie and I share a birthday, so we need to plan our party. If you're nice, you might get invited," I tease.

"I can play nice. Wouldn't want to miss it." He smirks. "I've gotta go, I'm glad you're feeling better." He leans down and gives me a final kiss before walking out of my room. I scramble out of bed, still completely naked, and catch him just before he reaches the front door. I quickly pull him into a goodbye hug.

"Thank you, again. Just for being there," I say. He squeezes me tighter, kisses the top of my head, and then pulls away.

"Anytime. I'll talk to you later." He winks, opens the door and heads out.

I watch him drive off from the front window, feeling completely satisfied and yet incomplete at the same time. Maybe even a little empty. I head off into the shower, and as I let the hot water wash away the night before, I repeat to myself, "Do not catch feelings. Do not catch feelings. Do not catch feelings."

Perhaps, if I say it enough, I'll convince myself that it's possible.