Chapter Nine

Jen

 

I woke with a start. Why was I naked?

Why was there an arm around me?

Where was I?

Then my groggy mind connected with memories of last night and I relaxed.

Dylan’s apartment—and his bed.

When was the last time I spent a night away from my cabin? I couldn’t remember.

And now what? Besides breakfast.

If we were going to date, this was a long-distance relationship. I lived over an hour’s drive away. Would I come stay with him on weekends, or the other way around? And he was a musician—was a consistent schedule even part of his vocabulary?

But…I wanted him.

I liked how he made me feel (and not only physically). How he looked at me.

So. This morning.

I could make coffee, if he had it, or make a Starbucks run.

He was sound asleep, so I could go without waking him.

I sat up and he rolled onto his back.

Damn, the man was fine. Chiseled in the right places. Soft in the right ones, too. Yes, I definitely wasn’t ready to give him up, yet.

I quietly left the bedroom and searched for my clothes and purse. Finding his shirt first, I put it on. The apartment was cold in the early morning.

Once I found my underwear and my brush, I went into the bathroom to use the toilet and clean up. My hair was wild and mascara had smudged under my eyes in sleep—ugh.

Definitely couldn’t let him see that!

Some water and a few tissues later, my face was clean enough to not scare anyone.

Still, I really hoped he had coffee in the kitchen.

A kitchen where all the cabinets looked the same, a seamless wall of gray minimalism. Even the refrigerator wasn’t in plain sight. How did he find anything in here?

Or did he? Maybe he ate out all the time.

“Well, let’s see what’s behind door number one?” I started opening cabinets.

“Jen?”

Oops. The noise must have awakened him. “Yeah.”

He walked out of the bedroom. Naked. “What are you—is that my shirt?”

“Uh, yeah. I was a little cold. Do you have coffee? I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” He drew me into his arms. “Other than the lack of a warm woman next to me. Why are you up so early?”

“Early? It’s eight.”

He chuckled. “In my world, that’s early. Guys I work with usually aren’t up before noon.” Brushing my hair aside, he kissed my neck. “Come back to bed.”

“But I’m not sleepy now.”

One hand slid down to my ass. “It’s not sleep I have in mind.”

Oh, I could feel that.

Such a temptation he was. And I didn’t have anywhere immediately to be. But…

“What happens tomorrow?”

He leaned back to meet my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“When the holiday is over and we go back to regular life. What then?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t spring that on you first thing in the morning.”

Dylan squeezed me tighter. “Hey…I’ve thought about it, too, but how about we table that question until after breakfast. And a bit more sleep.”

I nodded. “I can do that.”

He led me back to bed. The sheets weren’t cold, yet, something my feet appreciated. When he stretched out on his back, I laid my head on his chest.

It was really nice to not sleep alone after months in a bed that felt too big and empty.

The next time I woke was to a phone ringing. That wasn’t my ringtone, so—