Page 45 of This Broken Heart
Instead, I reach out and drag her closer.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s biting back a grin.
And maybe it’s shitty to talk about my wife with another woman. But I think I’m finally starting to understand what my mom and Bo and all the guys have been saying. And I think they’re right—Ana wouldn’t have wanted me to be alone.
Right now, I’m not thinking about sex, I’m thinking about how it’s a little less lonely when I’ve got her in my arms.
She fits just right. Her head is right at chest level. Cupping my hand around the back of her head, I guide her onto my chest. Nerves flutter in my stomach, but she relaxes against me without complaint. Something inside my chest loosens at that.
29.
Erin
Maven has one more coughing spell. It’s back in the bathroom for another steam bath, before she finally falls asleep again. Somewhere around two in the morning her fever breaks, but Josh and I stay in the living room just in case.
He doesn’t strictly need me there, but I get the feeling he wants the back up. We watch old reruns on TV side by side. He puts his arm around me again and I lean into him, breathing him in. At one point, he turns and presses his lips to the top of my head.
I’m really not sure what to make of all of it. I’ve been out of the dating game for so long, I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing.
And we can’t date anyway, not without putting everything else at risk. But some little part of me says there’s nothing wrong with a little physical affection. I’m trying to tell myself I can handle it without getting attached. It’s delusional, but his pull is so strong, I want to believe it.
I’ve had a rough year. Between my dad passing away and getting dumped, I’m tired of being strong all the time. It’s nice to feel protected. Safe.
Josh’s fingertips absentmindedly trace patterns on my shoulder, lulling me to sleep.
The next time I wake up, the TV is stuck on a screensaver and Josh is padding back into the living room. “I just wanted to check on her.”
“She doing okay?” I murmur.
He nods, settling onto the couch. Stretching onto his side, he tugs me down alongside him. No preamble. No warning. And I just melt into him. My mind is shorting out, but he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me into his chest. I knew he was in good shape, but seeing those abs and feeling them snugged up against my body are two entirely different things.
I stare straight ahead, cataloguing every point of physical connection. His chest against my shoulders. My ass presses into his hips. His lips graze my hair. I can feel his breath, soft and warm.
“You’re wide awake, aren’t you?” His voice rumbles against my back.
“No.”
I can feel him chuckling. “Go to sleep, Erin.”
Easy for him to say.
Every nerve is firing and my lizard brain is telling me to turn around and kiss the man—finally get a look at what he’s packing in those jeans.
But he’s got his arm around me so tight, I’m not sure I could turn even if I was brave enough to try. I focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling against my back, eventually drifting off to sleep.
Josh follows me into my dreams. My subconscious is far less reserved than my waking self. In the dream, I find him in the kitchen. Overcome by a tidal wave of lust, pull him down into a deep, delicious kiss. My hands travel up and down that fine chest before slipping beneath his waistband.
His hand arrests mine and I feel myself straddling the line between the dream world and the waking world.
My mind slowly pieces facts together. The hot make-out session was a dream. But my hands are definitely trying to burrow into Josh’s jeans.
I slowly become aware of him, his ragged breath.
I try to jerk my hand away, but he keeps it pinned. Warmth suffuses my entire middle like a soft glow.
“Were you dreaming?” He asks, his voice husky and low.
I’m too embarrassed to look at him, but the early dawn light is casting his shoulder in a blue glow. I nod my head, thankful that the dim light is hiding my burning cheeks.