Page 77 of Sour Notes

I’d appreciate that. I’d appreciate that a whole hell of a lot.

But, this? Her in my shirt? It’s… better? Or worse?

Definitely worse for my sanity.

It cuts off at mid-thigh, but I’m pretty sure if she turns, it’ll barely cover the curve of her delicious ass.

Standing there, in my shirt, she looks like mine.

God, I wish she were mine.

“Come on, Wolfie.” She stretches out her hand. “We’re both adults, we can sleep in the same bed for fuck’s sake.”

Her small hand curls around mine, and I smother my chuckle, smirking up at her instead. It’s real cute that she thinks she can pull me up off the floor.

The second our skin touches, the urge to yank her down on top of me and kiss her senseless consumes me. It’s all I can see.

Well shit, that idea needs to disappear, and fast before I have to deal with another hard situation.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I hurriedly push up off the floor and lace our fingers together. We walk to the bed in silence, her warm hand tightly clasping mine. With every step closer, my heart thumps harder and I forget how to breathe.

Does she feel it too?

All too soon, she drops my hand, climbing into bed and—Jesus take the fucking wheel.

That ass.

We’ve officially hit new lows.

I’m jealous of cotton.

Biting down a groan, I flop into bed beside her, maybe a little too heavily if her amused “hey” is anything to go by.

Epic fail again, Swayze boy. Absolutely killing it tonight.

Breathing in, I’m immediately smothered by her scent and I close my eyes, committing the moment to memory like the lovesick fool I am. When we get back home, I’m gonna have a real hard talk to myself because this shit ain’t it. But just for tonight, I’ll allow it.

Despite being friends since we were kids, this’ll be the first time we share a bed. We shared a tent once, but Nick was there too. Between us, so it’s not like there was spooning.

Not that this is a spooning situation.

Or a forking one.

Womp womp.

Jesus, slam the breaks—right now—before I make this awkward as fuck by popping wood.

Been there, done that, ruined a perfectly good pair of boxers.

“Hey, Swayze?” Her soft, sleepy voice breaks the silence.

Her pinky hooks around mine, and I jerk at her touch.

Get it together, man. This is not cool.

“Uhh, yeah?”

Smooth. Real smooth.