EXCEPTional

Ch. 28 (Bridget)

*Bridget*

I wasn't sure what woke me up, but something did. My eyes eventually opened, and the only light in my room came from the green light on my laptop and what little sunlight forced itself through my curtains. I glanced at my clock, and it read six a.m.

Groaning, I rubbed at my eyes. I still felt half-asleep, and I was not ready to get up even though this was the usual time I woke up on the weekdays. So I just turned onto my side.

And nearly screamed when I touched something that normally wasn't in my bed. My eyes shot open as I let out a quiet gasp. My heart leapt into my throat once I recognized the foreign object in my bed.

Chance Olson was in my bed. I repeat: Chance Olson was in my bed.

Now, why the hell was he sleeping in my bed? What happened last night? I knew I had gotten drunk, as was my plan, but what events led to him crashing in my bed for the night?

Even though my instinct was to kick him and thrash about to wake him up and yell at him to get out of my room, I found I was pushing my instincts down so I didn't disturb him.

I ended up just staring at him instead. My eyes grazed over his features, his smooth, flawless features. His eyes were shut, and it made his face look soft and almost silky in the half-light. His lips had parted slightly, and they looked like flower petals, painted pink. His blond hair was swept across his forehead, almost like it had been planned. As he slept, he looked very attractive and calm and vulnerable. All arrogance had left his expression, leaving only innocence behind.

For a while, I just laid there and watched him as he slept peacefully. I listened to him breathe in and breathe out in a steady pattern. His chest rose and fell with his inhales and exhales. He was so wonderful to watch, breathing beside me.

Then, he moved in his sleep and scooted closer to me. We were practically nose-to-nose now. I could feel his warm breath fan my face, and I could feel the balminess radiating from his body. His leg extended towards me, somehow entangling his feet with mine.

I bit my lip to keep from yelling about his cold feet and his sudden proximity. I tried to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest, which was hard to do since the thought running through my mind was, "If I move just a little bit more, I can kiss him." I hated my excitement towards how intimate this was.

But I became self-conscious. What if I had morning breath, and he'd wake up to its smell? The thought made me jerk back to cover my mouth, but the unexpected movement jostled him a bit, and he started to rouse awake.

I watched him with wide eyes, hoping that if I didn't move he wouldn't see me and go back to sleep. But I didn't camouflage as well as I thought.

His eyelids started to flutter, and he groaned as he stretched his arms. His eyes flashed open and he blinked sleepily. He gave me a groggy smile, and he seemed relaxed, as though this was a daily occurrence.

"Good morning," he rasped, voice still thick with sleep.

I stammered from behind my hands, "Um, hi."

He continued to smile at me, half-asleep. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Okay," I drawled.

He gave a small shrug. "Apparently the headache hasn't hit you yet," he commented, yawning. He looked at me, eyebrows lowered. "Why are you covering your mouth?"

"Oh," I exclaimed, unsure how to proceed. "Um, I might have morning breath and I don't want to pollute you with it."

His sleepy chuckle was deeper than usual, and it made me a little weak in the knees. "Bridget, despite popular belief, I'm not perfect. I experience that sometimes, too. So quit worrying," he assured me, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face.