Pretend You're Mine(7)

“Neither are you,” Harper insisted.

“What do you suggest?”

She paused weighing the options. “We are two exhausted adults who probably have a reasonable amount of self-control. Can we both sleep in the bed?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His hands were out of his pockets now and cruising over the back of his head. He was nervous and Harper thought it was adorable.

“Why not?”

“We don’t know each other and ...” he trailed off and Harper scented victory.

“I think I can trust you can control your hormones and not jump me in the middle of the night,” she teased.

“It’s not my hormones that I’m worried about.”

She smacked him in the chest. The very solid, warm chest. Maybe he had a point.

***

The only furniture on the second floor was in the master bedroom. A four-poster queen-sized bed dominated one wall opposite an ornately carved dresser.

“Grandma’s?” Harper lightly grasped one of the mahogany posts at the foot of the bed.

Luke nodded, hands back in his pockets.

“It’s nice.” Staring at his bed was suddenly making Harper feel a little shy.

“I can still sleep on the couch if you’d be more comfortable.” He jerked a thumb towards the hallway.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That thing looks like it would put your ass to sleep if you sat down long enough to tie your shoes. We’re adults. This doesn’t have to be awkward, right?”

Instead of answering, he turned and opened one of the dresser drawers.

“Here.” Luke held out a plain white t-shirt. “You can sleep in this.”

It was soft to the touch and obviously well worn. By him.

“Thanks.” She took it, careful to only touch the shirt.

“You can change in there,” he gestured towards the connecting bathroom. “I’m going to go lock up.”

“Okay, thanks.” They stared at each other for another minute. “This is awkward, isn’t it?” Harper blurted out.

Luke smiled. “A little.”

“It’s just for one night.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself.

“Right.”

“And we’re adults.”

“It would appear so.”

“We’re just being silly,” Harper reasoned. “It’s just sleep.”

She could see his dimple again. At least he was amused. She nodded finally. “Okay, I’m going to go change.”

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, careful to gently dry the bruised side. She didn’t even look at the rest of her body. Judging from how sore everything was, it was probably just as purple as her face.

It was a good thing this wasn’t some “first time” with someone like Luke. She wasn’t at her best — maybe even hovering near her worst. And if she was going to have a first time with someone like Luke she’d want it to be perfect.

She rolled her eyes and tugged the t-shirt over her head and down her torso. It was ridiculous to be newly homeless and jobless and more concerned with the what-ifs of imaginary sex with the sculpted captain. She wondered what he looked like in uniform.

“Pull yourself together,” she muttered. “It’s one platonic night of sleep.”

She ran a hand over the cotton and took a moment to be grateful for remembering to wear underwear today.

Harper tugged the neck of the shirt up to her nose and breathed deeply. It smelled like him. And she was about to crawl into a bed that smelled like him ... with him. She hoped she could control herself in her sleep.

She was standing at the foot of the bed, fidgeting, when he came back upstairs.

“Everything okay?” he asked, opening a dresser drawer.

“Oh, yeah. I just didn’t know if you had a side,” she said, playing with the hem of the shirt.

He suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of the drawer. “A side?”

“Of the bed. Do you sleep on a side?”

He glanced back up. “I usually sleep in the middle. So you can take your pick.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Luke grabbed a pair of pajama pants. “I’ll be back.”

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Harper gratefully flopped onto the bed and burrowed under the covers. She would just hug the edge and he wouldn’t even know she was there. No inconvenience at all.

She hoped she wouldn’t snore.

The bathroom door opened. He stood in the doorway in nothing but untied flannel pants that rode low on his hips. Harper wet her lips and tried not to stare at his cut abs. Every visible inch of his torso was carved, muscled, and freaking hot. There was another tattoo, a phoenix, over his heart.