Match Made in Quarantine

38. Day Nineteen

This time when I woke up in Maddox's arms, I nuzzled into his chest instead of pushing him out of the bed. He let out a sleepy grunt that warmed my heart and made me chuckle, his arms tightening around me.

"Morning," I said in a sing-song voice, leaning my chin on his chest and looking up at his sleepy face. His eyes were barely open, a lazy smile popping up on his face when they settled on me.

"Mornin', baby," he murmured, and my heart skipped a few beats at the casual nickname. He stretched his arms and instantly hit the wall my bed was adjacent to. Cursing under his breath at the contact, his eyes flew completely open, "Ugh, maybe we should sleep in my room from now on."

The remark was so casual, I pressed my lips together to keep a huge grin from consuming my face. We'd been talking in my room and at some point passed out, but his comment insinuated he expected this to be an every-night kind of arrangement. I still thought it felt weird to share a bed with someone, but it was also warm, and safe, and I had the best view a girl could hope for.

"I don't know. I really love my bed," I said, trying to seem like I was seriously thinking things over. Lifting myself, one palm pressed on each side of him, I stared down at his face. He pursed his lips, the corners slightly raised, and nodded his head, brows slightly furrowed.

"Hmm, is that so. I guess I'll just have to persuade you in that case...." He trailed on, raising one hand to brush my hair behind my ear.

I quirked one eyebrow, feeling the onset of a challenge — and I'd never been one to back down from a challenge. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing tha—aaaaaahahaha," The attack started before I even had a chance to finish my sentence. He grabbed my waist, and started tickling me, his fingers expertly making me double over in laughter. Taking the opportunity, he pushed me down on the bed, and towered over me, his fingers still attacking my sides while his lips started trailing kisses along my neck.

My senses went into overload, both joy and desire coursing through my body. I'd attempted to retaliate but to no avail. He took a break from kissing my neck to whisper into my ear, "I'm not ticklish." Oh, I was doomed.

After another two minutes of twisting around my bed like one of those inflatable air dancers, I pushed at his chest and admitted defeat while gasping for breath, "Okay, okay, stoooop, you win! We sleep in your bed!"

He lifted himself above me and wiggled his eyebrows victoriously before leaning back down to press a kiss to my forehead. Slowly, and gently, without putting any of his weight on me, he leaned on his forearms and buried his head into my neck.

"I'm so happy," he said, his voice raw with emotion, and I knew he wasn't talking about winning the challenge.

I grinned, feeling joyful tears form in my eyes, as I gently bumped my head against his, "Me too."

********

After we managed to crawl out of bed, I made breakfast with Maddox continually teasing me about my pancake debacle. In response, I reminded him of his frozen pizza that almost burnt the apartment down. At that point, we were at an impasse.

In the afternoon, he exercised, only this time I stood in the kitchen, sipping my coffee and staring at him with zero amounts of shame. He'd offered to put on a shirt, his tone mocking, but I wordlessly took the paper with the rules and ripped it up. His laughter sounded so sweet to my ears I was getting a sugar rush. Or, well, something was definitely happening to my body. 

My mouth gaped open as I watched his muscles strain and sweat form across his body. Before, I tried to stay busy, avoid looking in his direction or hiding out in my room. But that was the old me. Single me. Pretending-I-don't-like-this-man me. The new me was going to need about ten glasses of water because she was getting thirsty.