Chapter 41

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✿ Aileen's POV

Sunlight floods through the skylight. I blink a few times as I brush some of the sleepy locks of hair off my face, my eyes adjusting to the brightness. My gaze moves to look at the weight on my midsection.
An arm. Reid's arm. Just as I suspected. Long limbs dusted with hair and corded with muscle.

His heavy arm that latches to my waist moves slightly and I realize his hand is partially slipping beneath my blouse. All five fingers splayed on my skin. My breath gets stuck somewhere between my throat and mouth.

Get the fuck away from him, Aileen, I order myself.

But it's hard when his fingers feel so hot against my skin, causing my whole body to tingle.

We kissed again.

I needed to get out of bed. I needed time to think, to process. Away from Reid. Before I did something stupid. Or reckless.

Something like kissing him.

A low groan climbs up my throat, and I have no other choice but to muffle it with my hand. The sudden motion makes the mattress bounce under me.

Shit.

Reid stretches beside me.

Don’t wake up, please. Please, universe. God. Anyone. I just need a couple of minutes to gather myself before I have to face him.

I feel Reid’s body settle back, his breathing remaining deep and constant. Returning my hand to my side—very fucking slowly—I thank the universe for listening to me this one time and promise I’d make up for it. I’d go to church with Nora the next time I was home, I swear.

Lifting Reid’s heavy limb as delicately and slowly as I can, I roll to the side, right to the edge of the bed, and then I deposit his muscular body part back on the comforter. He moves, turning on his back, and lifts that arm that had been on top of me so it rests behind his head.

That position causes his biceps to flex and look all big and delectable and—

Jesus Christ, Lee.

Painfully pulling my eyes off the man on the bed, I move through the room on my tiptoes. I make my way out and close the door behind me. My head falls on the wooden surface, and my eyes close.

The next time I open the door to our bedroom as quietly as I can, Reid’s sitting on the couch in nothing but boxers. There’s so much skin to take in it sends my pulse skyrocketing.

We’ll have to talk about what happened last night—the kissing.

And the fact that we slept together all night, curled in a matching set of parentheses. But it would probably be much easier if we could just skip the awkward talk and go straight to the making out again.

Stop it, Lee!

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“Hey.”

His hair is a mess, his eyes are closed, and he’s leaning back as if he’s just focusing on breathing or swearing off mai tais.

“How’s the head?” I ask.

He answers with a gravelly groan.

“Well, I brought you some fruit and an egg sandwich.”

I hold out a plate of some mango and berries and a wrapped sandwich, and he looks at both of them.

“You ate?” he asks. The follow-up “Without me?” is clearly implied.

His tone is dickish, but I forgive him.

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