The Deal

But something is different about this morning. My body feels warmer than usual, and I become aware of the sweetest smell. Strawberries maybe? No, cherries. Definitely cherries. And something tickles the bottom of my chin, something soft and hard at the same time. A head? Yup, there’s a head nestled in the crook of my neck. And a slender arm draped across my stomach. A warm leg hooked on my thigh and a soft breast resting on my left pec.

My eyes open gradually and I find Hannah snuggled up against me. I’m on my back with both my arms wrapped around her, holding her tight to my body. No wonder my muscles are so stiff. Did we sleep like this all night? I remember being on opposite sides of the bed when I fell asleep, so far apart that I half expected to wake up and find Hannah on the floor.

But now we’re tangled in each other’s arms. It’s nice.

I’m growing more alert. Alert enough to register that last thought. It’s nice? What the fuck am I thinking? Cuddling is an act reserved solely for girlfriends.

And I don’t do girlfriends.

But I don’t release her either. I’m fully awake now, breathing in her scent and basking in the heat of her body.

I glance at the alarm clock, which is due to go off in five minutes. I always wake up ahead of the alarm, as if my body knows it’s time to get up, but I still set it as a precaution. It’s seven. I’ve only gotten four hours of sleep, but I feel oddly rested. At peace. I’m not ready to let go of that feeling yet, so I just lie there with Hannah in my arms and listen to her steady breathing.

“Is that a boner?”

Hannah’s horrified voice slices through the serene silence. She shoots into a sitting position, then stumbles back down. Yup, Ms. Graceful trips while lying down, because her leg is still slung over my thighs. And yup, there’s definite morning wood happening in my southern region.

“Relax,” I say in a sleep-gravelly voice. “It’s just a morning chub.”

“A morning chub?” she echoes. “Oh my God. You’re so…”

“Male?” I supply dryly. “Yes, I am, and that’s what happens to men in the morning. It’s biology, Wellsy. We wake up with wood. If it makes you feel better, I am in no way turned on right now.”

“Fine, I’ll accept your biology excuse. Now can you please explain why you decided to cuddle with me in the middle of the night?”

“I didn’t decide a damn thing. I was asleep. For all I know, you’re the one who crawled on top of me.”

“I would never. Not even in my sleep. My subconscious knows better than that.” She jabs her finger in the center of my chest, then dives off the bed in a blur of motion.

The moment she’s gone, I experience a sense of loss. I’m no longer warm and cozy, but cold and alone. As I sit up and stretch my arms over my head, her green eyes fix on my bare chest and her nose wrinkles in distaste.

“I cannot believe my head was on that thing all night.”

“My chest is not a thing.” I give her a pointed look. “Other women seem to like it just fine.”

“I’m not other women.”

No, she isn’t. Because other women don’t entertain me as much as she does. I suddenly wonder how I ever made it through life without Hannah Wells’ sarcastic barbs and annoyed grumbles.

“Stop grinning,” she snaps.

I’m grinning? Didn’t even realize it.

She narrows her eyes as she fumbles for her clothes. My T-shirt hangs to her knees, emphasizing just how small she is.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this,” she orders.

“Why not? It’ll only boost your street cred.”

“I don’t want to be another one of your puck bunnies, and I don’t want people thinking I am, understood?”

Her use of the term makes me grin harder. I like that she’s picking up the hockey lingo. Maybe one of these days, I’ll even convince her to come to a game. I have a feeling Hannah would be a great heckler, which is always an advantage at home games.

Though knowing her, she’d probably heckle us and give the other team the advantage.

“Well, if you really don’t want anyone to think that, then I suggest you get dressed fast.” I cock a brow. “Unless you want my teammates to witness your walk of shame. Which they will, because we have practice in thirty minutes.”

Panic lights her eyes. “Crap.”

I have to say, this is the first time a girl’s been worried about getting caught in my bedroom. Normally they strut out like they’ve just bagged Brad Pitt.

Hannah takes a breath. “We studied. We watched TV. I went home late. That’s what happened. Got it?”

I fight back laughter. “As you wish.”

“Did you really just Princess Bride me?”

“Did you really just use Princess Bride as a verb?”

She glowers at me, then points a finger in my direction. “I expect you to be dressed and ready to go when I get out of that bathroom. You’re driving me home before your roommates wake up.”

A chuckle of amusement slips out as she marches into the washroom and slams the door.

*

Hannah