Chapter 17

17

I jolted awake, fearful that someone had entered my dorm with a spare key they'd stolen. At least, in my dream, I could hear the door creaking open and the sinister laugh of someone getting away with their insidious plans.

Not only did I jump out of my skin, but I also let out a squeak. It was pitch black, and I was most certainly not in my dormitory.

Momentarily, panic truly rattled my bones. The person who stole my key had kidnapped me and had a nefarious plot for me.

"Shh," someone whispered, a weight dragging me back down. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I vaguely remembered where I must have fallen asleep and saw that the weight on me was actually a very thick forearm—one with a familiar tattoo.

I was lying sideways on a very plush couch, my entire body thrown over Noah's, his arms wrapped around me like we'd planned this.

I cursed, trying to move to a standing position, but Noah kept a firm grip on my waist. Wiggling, I tried to remove myself from his death grip, even in his sleeping form.

"Stop moving so much," Noah murmured, and when I looked at him, his eyes were still firmly closed.

"Noah! We must have fallen asleep. I was supposed to go back to campus!" I whispered at him, trying to shove his heavy arm off me. I ignored the tiny voice in the back of my mind screaming at me that this was more than okay. Because it wasn't.

"I'm not driving you back right now. Just go back to sleep." I had to admit, the sound of his very sleepy voice was alluring, with its deeper tone and added gravel. My cheeks heated.

"I can't just sleep with you on this couch!" Though I was still whispering, I tried my best to sound firm, since he was still holding me to him. I couldn't let myself think about how perfectly our bodies fit together, or the warmth that emanated from him.

"Would you like me to move us to the bed?" I could see the smirk on his face, even in the dark. I smacked his chest.

"I'm not willingly sleeping anywhere with you!" I shoved again him with much less gentleness than before, forcing myself to stand. Glaring at the grandfather clock, I wondered how the hell it hadn't woken me up in the last four hours.

"It's just sleep, Henri," Noah grumbled, running his hand over his eyes before looking at me. I turned my gaze from him because he looked far too attractive with his mussed hair and sleepy eyes.

"We-we were cuddling," I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The horror!" Noah mocked, standing and heading for the door. "I promise I'll never tell anyone of the scandal. Now, at least let me give you the bed for the rest of the night so you can get some rest."

He held the door open, but I didn't budge. "You don't have a spare guest room?"

"Not one with a bed in it. Come on." He waved at the doorway, and I obeyed. Once I walked through, his palm landed on my lower back and guided me down the hallway. An unwelcomed heat bloomed in my stomach at the feeling of his hand. It was just my tired mind, that was all.

A small—seriously, microscopic—part of me wished I hadn't woken up and could have stayed wrapped in his arms just a bit longer. Yet a much, much larger part of me was glad I did wake up.

Noah opened a door and pushed me in, straight to a perfectly made bed of gray silk. He moved across the room to a large chest of drawers and returned with gray sleeping clothes.

"There's a bathroom over there." He pointed behind me, and I followed his finger to the door on the left. "Figured you'd be more comfortable."

I scurried to the bathroom, wondering why he looked so…nervous. The bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the flat, boasting a beautiful clawfoot tub, glass shower, and double vanity. After I changed and folded my clothes on the counter, I returned to see him sitting at the foot of the bed. The decorative pillows were discarded on the floor, and he'd pulled back the duvet and sheets.

"I don't mind sleeping on the couch." Now I was wondering why I was nervous. I had no reason to be.

Other than the fact that I was about to sleep in Noah Lawrence's bed.

But that wasn't anything to fret over.

Right?

"Nonsense." He just patted the bed for me to get in but didn't move.

Slowly, I slid underneath the sheets, my feet not reaching to where he was sitting. This was a massive bed, but I was also pretty short, so he was still a few inches from me.

"If you need anything, make yourself at home." He sounded a tad robotic and wouldn't look at me as he stood, grabbing the end of the cover I hadn't pulled up yet and tucking it at my shoulder.

"Are you tucking me in?" I yawned as I asked the groggy question.

I was an idiot for saying something like that, but his eyes darkened as he stared back at me.

"Suppose I am." He reached out slowly, moving a piece of my hair away from my face, grazing his fingers across my skin as he did so. My whole body tingled in response, and I bit my tongue to prevent myself from suggesting he get in the bed with me. The way he looked at me made it impossible for me to look away. His gaze was heated and intentional, and his mouth was slightly agape. Those full lips…lips that had pressed against my neck and murmured delicious words there…

I was tired and delusional, because then his touch was gone, and the door clicked shut. And I was in his bedroom. Alone.

Suddenly, I wanted to call to him and ask him to join me in the bed because it felt so cold and lonely. Plus, I couldn't deny that I wanted him to sleep next to me.

That was probably just my exhaustion speaking.