“My room is through this way,” he said as he pushed open another door that was once again hidden. “We share this bathroom, so make sure you lock both sides, and unlock both sides, before and after.”
I followed the doorway to the bed that was in direct line of sight from the bathroom, and gasped.
“You have silk sheets,” I mused.
He grunted out a ‘yeah’ and then turned around and led me to the spare bedroom.
“This one only has a bed,” he muttered. “I will give you a pillow off mine for now. Tomorrow, I’ll have some more. I’ll do overnight delivery off of Amazon. You have any preference on type?”
I blinked. Then blurted, “Firm. It has to be that stuffing-filled type. It can’t be the pieces of foam, the memory foam, or feathers. Otherwise it… I won’t sleep,” I settled on.
He nodded once. “Mine is regular filled, I believe. You can come pick the one out that you want while I shower.”
I nodded and he led me back to his bedroom. Then he shut the bathroom door between us, leaving me staring at the bed with my eyes wide, and listening to him strip out of his clothes behind me.
I swallowed hard and walked toward his bed, then face-flopped down onto it and all but snuggled down into his sheets.
The bed smelled like him.
Even better, his sheets felt like heaven.
I groaned—both at the smell of him surrounding me and the feel of his sheets that I pretended his hands would feel like as they glided across my skin.
Which, I knew wouldn’t be factual. Because I’d touched his hands—and they were rough hands. Hands that were used to doing work. They wouldn’t feel like the sheets.
I sighed and rolled over onto my back, my hands going up to reach for the pillows as I brought the two that there were on the bed close to me.
Though his house had been orderly, his bed most certainly hadn’t been.
It looked like he’d been roused from sleep in the middle of the night, and he’d left in such a hurry that he hadn’t been able to put his bed to rights before he left.
One pillow was all the way across the large king-size bed while the other was shoved far down into the sheets almost by the foot of the bed.
And the comforter for the bed, a black and red buffalo plaid flannel heavenly thing, was practically falling off the end side of the bed. I hadn’t even seen it until I’d reached for the far pillow.
After righting both pillows, I next righted the massive comforter that was surprisingly much heavier than it looked, and then made myself comfortable in the bed.
That was how he found me.
I heard the shower turn off, then the slow roll of the barndoor pushing open, telling myself to keep my eyes firmly shut.
I hadn’t seen any clothes in there. Nor had I seen any towels.
Then again, that didn’t mean anything. I hadn’t seen the doors, either, yet they’d been there.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding slightly amused.
I didn’t bother to open my eyes as I said, “I’m testing out which one I like better. So far, I’m leaning toward the other one.”
It wasn’t because it was more comfortable, either. It was because it smelled more like him.
It was obviously the one that he chose to sleep with.
“I kind of thought you’d just take one,” he admitted as I heard him move across the room to what I assumed was his closet.
I hadn’t explored—even though I’d wanted to.
That was my downfall. I loved to have information of all kinds. That didn’t matter if I had to snoop to get it.