"You should crash."
"Do you want me to take the couch?"
"No." He stood up. "I have a few ideas I want to work on."
Didn't have to tell me twice. Still in the robe, I crawled under the covers, half-asleep by the time my head hit the pillow. Out in the living room, Rohan played a soft melody on the piano. It was quiet enough that I had to concentrate to hear it, eyes closed, a caress that lulled me all the way into sleep.
I woke up groggily to find myself laying half on top of him, our legs tangled up together. No light peeked around the curtains yet, the world still slumbering around us. My hand rested on his stomach where his shirt had ridden up to expose a warm strip of skin.
I tensed. He was supposed to stay at the piano. Nap on the couch. Not be here. I didn't sleep with guys. Not even after sex. If I wanted to cuddle, I had my pillow. I pulled myself free, needing to kill this incredible intimacy because this type of feels were not part of the fucking deal.
"Stay," he mumbled.
I flung the covers back. I knew where that was coming from. Any body would do at this time of night and I was the closest one. If you can't be with the one you love … Not finishing that. "Because you want company."
I swung my feet onto the floor.
He snagged the back of my robe. "Because I don't want to be alone in the dark."
Rohan let go of me but I didn't move, my head bowed. No one wanted that. It was the reason humans huddled around a flickering fire, pressed close to keep the shadows at bay. But you didn't voice it. You said, "Because you're warm." Because any one of a million excuses that didn't expose your vulnerability.
Rohan never exposed his, so what was this? Another game? Except, that wasn't right. He'd bared his soul to me when he'd admitted that cutting off his music had been denying an essential part of himself. It's why I'd pushed so hard for him to write the theme song.
I had no idea if I wanted to stay or to run away as far as I could. A simple repeat fuck had gotten tangled up and crazy complicated. Icy panic clawed at my throat at what that meant or what I wanted it to mean or hoped it didn't mean.
"Stop thinking." He loosely laced his fingers through mine, but it was clearly my call to stay or go.
I glanced back at him. Big mistake.
Rohan watched me intently, his expression soft and open. His eyes begging me to stay.
Each heartbeat pulsed along my skin from my chest to the top of my head. I forced an exhale, my hand tightening on his.
He tugged me into his side, tucking the covers around us, his head resting on mine. My remaining tension melted away under the steady comfort of his touch.
I snuggled closer. Because you're warm.
13
The clock showed mid-afternoon by the time I woke up for good. Alone. I rolled over onto Rohan's side of the bed, pressing my face into his pillow. Even the faint trace of his unique scent smelled better than dark chocolate, clean grass after a heavy rain, or the woodsy musk in the air after two of you have come your brains out. Was it wrong of me to relish this intensely intimate access to him? Or only wrong of me to wonder who else was in this club?
Sitting up with a stretch, I raked my fingers through my curls, tumbling loose on my shoulders, trying to comb them into some sort of style. Then I retied the belt on my robe, and padded out of the bedroom in search of some coffee. I hoped a caffeine jolt would help with my lingering confusion about whatever was going on between Rohan and me.
I followed the sound of music, stopping in the doorway to drink in the sight of Rohan at the piano, head bent, his hair falling into his eyes, fully focused on the keyboard. His white T-shirt was so worn I glimpsed his brown skin through the sheer patches. My fingers twitched, longing to feel the play of hard muscle under soft fabric. "Good morning."
The soft look he gave me was immediately wiped away in favor of a shark-like smile. My heart sped up, thinking this was a prelude to a very good morning.
"Afternoon, actually."
So much for my second chance. I didn't react to the judgment in Samson's voice but any fond thoughts about Rohan fled. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd planned last night to maneuver me here to be found by Samson now.
"I didn't realize you boys had a play date today." I stretched, making sure my robe gaped open enough to flash Samson a bit of boob, then swiped the coffee mug from Samson's hand as I sat down next to him. Thigh to thigh.
A wrong note sounded from the piano. Not sure whose smirk was bigger at that, Samson's or mine. I suffered zero delusions that Samson's cocky glee was about my unique charms. It had everything to do with Rohan and whatever made Samson despise him. But I'd use anything I could to my advantage.