I canât believe I slept through the whole movie! I completely missed out on our cuddle time. Well, I mean I was obviously there for it, I just donât remember it. Iâm a little mollified by the fact that, at some point, Jackson also fell asleep. When I finally awoke, the ending credits were still playing, and Jacksonâs head was tipped against the back of the couch, mouth shut, sleeping silently. Itâs not fair. Heâs even good-looking when he sleeps. Canât he at least pretend to be human and have his mouth wide open, with drool on his chin? Iâm sure thatâs how I looked.
Luckily, I had my face buried so far into his body that there was no way he could have seen me. And fuck, what a body. Itâs a real body. Big and burly and strong and warm and big. Have I mentioned big? It took all my willpower to keep my hands still, rather than run them all over his chest.
My stirring must have woken him, because he slowly blinked his eyes open and looked down at me. It was the most adorably adorable thing I had ever witnessed. I kind of wanted to shave off one of his eyebrows just to bring him down a peg and onto a more even playing field. But heâd probably find a way to make that look good, and that would just annoy me even more.
Waking up also made me realize that I really had to use the bathroom. Like â if I had laughed, even a little, I would totally have peed my pants. Dress. Whatever. So, climbing off the couch I asked to use his ladiesâ room and he pointed me in the right direction while he shut down the stuff in the theater.
Which brings me to now. Iâm still in the bathroom, fretting, and if I donât get out of here soon, heâs going to think that Iâm suffering from stomach problems. I like this guy. I like him a lot. I have decent self-confidence, but Iâm pretty sure this guy is out of my league. And not just because heâs good-looking. And he is beyond good-looking. But also because heâs clearly loaded, and probably famous. Or at least famous to people who watch . . . whatever the hell sport it is that he plays.
Gah! What am I supposed to do? Do I ask for his number? Do I put myself out there like that?
No. No, nope, no. Iâm leaving this in his hands. His big, strong, capable hands. Ack! Okay, I need to get over myself and get out of here.
Stepping out of Jacksonâs powder room, I spot him strolling across the condo in my direction.
âThank you for sharing your movie with me. Sorry I slept through the whole thing.â
âYouâre welcome. And even if you canât prove it, now you can tell people that youâve watched it. It truly is a crime that you hadnât seen it,â he smiles.
âOkay. Well, thanks again. I should really head home now.â Biting my lip, I gather up my purse and shoes, and head toward the door.
I can hear Jackson walking behind me. âI wish I had a pair of shoes in your size I could give you, since you canât walk in your broken ones.â
Reaching the door, I turn back toward him. âHonestly, Iâm kind of glad you donât. Iâm not sure if I would want to wear the shoes of some ex-girlfriend or one-night stand.â
Jacksonâs grin is a bit devilish as he says, âI was thinking more along the lines of my sisterâs shoes. But I kinda like that the idea of another woman sleeping over gets your fur up. My Kitten is getting a little green, I think.â
With an incredulous look I tell him, âYou can be a bit of a cocky ass, you know that?â
âMmm-hmm.â Jackson steps so close I can feel the body heat radiating off him. Leaning in, he puts his lips next to my ear. âYeah, Iâm cocky all right, but I think you might like that about me. And youâre a feisty little vixen, and I know that I like that about you.â
Pulling away from me I hear the click of the door opening behind me. His long arm somehow reached back and grabbed the handle, all while he was distracting me with his words and his hot breath on my neck.
âGoodnight, Kitten. Sweet dreams.â
Not trusting my mouth to say anything that wouldnât be horribly awkward, I turn and walk out Jacksonâs door. I donât even exhale until Iâm down the hallway and hitting the button to call up the elevator. I think I hear him shut the door behind me, but Iâm not willing to turn around to look. My heart couldnât take it if I locked eyes with him again. Itâs still going crazy, and he didnât even kiss me. He didnât kiss me. He didnât really touch me. But my body is lit up. I feel like we just had a bout of energetic foreplay and a single touch would set me off at this moment. How does he do that?
And what does it mean that he didnât try to kiss me? Did he not want to? Did he think I wouldnât approve of a kiss? How the hell am I supposed to not overthink this?
The elevator door dings as it slides open. Stepping in, I press the button for the lobby and sag against the wall. Itâs not until Iâm exiting the building, phone in hand, that I realize he never asked for my number.
Well, shit.