48. I Don't Love You That Much

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I wake up groggy and hot. Too hot. I haven't woken up this stuffy in a long time, and yet, there's something extremely comfortable about the position I'm in. My skin might be searing and desperate for a cool breeze, but I don't dare move. Because wrapped around my torso is Seth's arm. He's snuggled into my back in a way that makes it impossible to move. I wouldn't want to anyway because I wouldn't want to wake him. I roll over just enough to be able to get a glimpse of his face. He doesn't stir, thankfully. It'd almost be cruel of me to pull him from his sleep when he's looking so sweet.

I carefully pull my arms out from beneath the blankets, anxious to feel the cool air against them. My waist is pleading for me to do the same for it, but I don't. Instead, I just lift the blankets slightly, wafting some fresh air beneath the covers and sigh when the coolness hits my skin.

This man is a freaking furnace. I forgot how scorching his skin could get and when that skin makes contact with my own, it's like my blood starts to boil. I need a drink of water or something, but instead of moving, I glance down at Seth's sleeping form.

I can't believe where things ended up last night. I had never expected us to cross that point, but I have no complaints whatsoever. The fact that he announced his love for me was like a blessed flood of water over my achy soul. It revived me, and until then I hadn't even realized that I'd been suffocating.

With cautious movements, I shift my body slightly so that I'm facing Seth. His arm drops away from my stomach, but I don't mind. I'm actually grateful to have some distance from his skin of fire.

He moans quietly in his sleep and then rolls onto his back. I watch as he brings an arm up to his face, resting it on his forehead. His chest continues to rise and fall with relaxed ease as his mind drifts further into sleep.

Now that I've been released from his hold, I quietly slip out of bed, gather my clothes, and head to the bathroom. Within five minutes, I'm showered and fresh. My hair is still dripping when I reenter the bedroom and I hurry to wrap it up in my towel. When I return my gaze to the bed, I find Seth sitting up smiling at me.

He still has sleepy eyes, slightly puffy from a night of little sleep. I giggle at the exhaustion on his face, proud to be the one that put it there. When he catches my eye, he pats the bed beside him, ushering me back under the sheets. I obey, running and jumping into the empty space beside him.

Reaching over to my bedside table, I tug open the drawer, pull out some gum, and fling a piece into Seth's lap.

"Thanks," he says, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

I smile over at him as I watch him pop the gum into his mouth and chew slowly. His jaw clenches with each bite, and I'm momentarily mesmerized by the movement. I want to feel that jaw moving beneath my hand as his lips graze slowly against my own. But, instead of leaning forward to initiate another display of passion, I lean back against my pillows and stare at him.

My mind is buzzing. Last night was so completely unexpected that I'm wondering if it was part of Seth's plan, or if it just happened. I really hope it was his plan, because if it wasn't then who's to say that it meant what I hope it meant for him.

"You told me you loved me last night," I say, a grin taking over my face.

"I did." Seth doesn't look at me, but I can see humor lining the corners of his eyes as he lifts one arm and rests it behind his head, his bicep straining against his skin with the movement.

"Why?"

Now he's looking at me. Dumb question; I know. I feel stupid asking it the moment it's passed my lips, but there's no going back now. I just need to know why he chose last night to tell me. He had said he'd never stopped loving me. If that's the case, why'd he wait over a month to say it back?

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