The Racquet Accident

Chapter Twenty: Friends with Benefits.

Chapter Twenty: "Friends with Benefits."

I'VE BEEN STARING at one side of Nikko's room for possibly half an hour. My phone was somewhere here but I wasn't going to get out of his comfy bed to go and find it. The large curtains on the windows of his balcony were wide open, letting bright sunlight stream into the room. The sight made me squint when I first woke up but it didn't seem to disturb the quiet sleeper next to me. 

I was convinced Nikko slept like the dead. 

Last night, he had drifted off first. If I hadn't seen him go off into a quiet slumber (and checked his pulse twice for good measure), I would've thought he wasn't breathing. He didn't even move in his sleep the way I usually do. 

However, right now, he started to stir next to me. The rustling of his sheets behind me made me still. The sudden groan that left him as he woke himself up made me suck in a low breath. 

Maybe he wouldn't notice me doing everything I could to freeze and pretend that I had been asleep. I always did that, even as a kid, out of habit. Besides, we weren't touching. However, touching him wasn't necessary when I felt his presence behind me as if he was flushed against my body. 

I knew exactly how he felt though. His warm hands didn't leave mine when we were up talking. Even when the party was still happening outside the four walls of his minimalistic room. I became less aware that a party was still taking place and more aware of him with each passing second, especially when he was over me and then under me. 

Neither of us took anything further outside of talking and kissing and that one quiet moment around 3 AM when we were both staring up at his ceiling. When his sock-covered foot was pressed against my own as I made up some story that resulted in a giant monster tearing off the roof of the house. I was met with silence for about three seconds before I realized he was laughing, his hands over his face before his lips met my own for the hundredth time. 

Kissing Nikko was addictive as hell. I thought about it hundreds of times before it finally happened. Where I would have to place my hands? On his broad shoulders, through his thick dark hair, or on his arms that I stared at more than I ever needed to at practice? Would it make me want things to go further? Would we kiss until my mouth hurt? Would it be one of the best sensations I ever experienced? 

Last night, 'all of the above' had been the option I ticked. And none of the options had even been a thought the second we were in isolation. 

Yet all of my thoughts flew out the window when his warm hand reached for me beneath the covers. A surprise squeak left me as he pulled me closer to him, that one hand now in my line of vision. His chest shook with soundless laughter as the front of his body lined up with my back. 

When I felt something poking against my ass, I let out a small laugh, "Happy?"

"Very," He said, his voice coated with sleep that made me reach for his arm. "It's Sunday." 

"No running today." I declared, my voice muffled into the pillow. 

"Two Sundays in a row?" He teased. "Who are you and what have you done with Larine?" 

I rolled over, getting a good sight of him in the morning. I wasn't sure if the strands of his hair were in different directions because of the sleep or my hands last night. His lips rose even higher when looking at me, his grip on me secured. Safe. It gave me the go-ahead to move even forward into his grasp, burying my face between the pillow and his neck. "You okay?" He asked. 

"Yeah," He smelled like his cologne and it made me burrow my nose further into the strong column of his neck. "I don't wanna run today because I don't wanna move."