When It's Real

“Still. I’m going to get him some blankets.” Vaughn hurries out of the room.

I hear her footsteps in the hall then the creak of a door opening. I’m too lazy to go downstairs and help her, so I just lie back and think about everything we did today. The barbecue. Seeing my mom. No, hanging out with my mom. That was surprisingly...fun. And that party tonight was awesome. I’ve been to hundreds of parties, but I can honestly say that this one tops them all. Vaughn’s friends were so laid-back, and that jam sesh was righteous. I’m feeling so inspired right now that I almost wish I was in the studio, laying down some tracks.

But if I was in the studio, then that means I wouldn’t be in Vaughn’s bedroom. On Vaughn’s bed. I wouldn’t be smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo on her pillows, or running my fingers over the soft bedspread that she sleeps under every night.

She returns a few minutes later, grumbling under her breath. “Is he always this difficult?”

I grin. “Ty? Yeah. Why? What’d he say?”

“He said he’s fine sleeping without a pillow. Who doesn’t need a pillow?” She sounds horrified. “I gave him one anyway, and a blanket, and I put sheets on the couch, so hopefully he’s comfy. I offered to leave the night-light on in case he gets up in the middle of the night, and he laughed at me for a whole minute.”

I laugh, too, because the thought of Ty needing a night-light is hysterical.

Vaughn hesitates at the foot of the bed. “Um.” She visibly gulps as she sweeps her golden-brown eyes over me. “I need to get ready for bed.”

“Who’s stopping you?” I drawl.

“I’m not changing in front of you. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

My girl, I want to say, but I don’t want to make her more nervous than she already is. I know what she’s thinking—that I’m staying over so the two of us can...you know. But that was never my intention, and I’m quick to tell her that.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want,” I offer.

“What? No, that’s ridiculous. You won’t be comfy!”

I fight a smile. “You have a weird obsession with other people being comfortable,” I inform her.

“Gee, Oak, I apologize for being a considerate person. Fine, sleep on the floor like a dog if you want.”

“Nah, I’d rather snuggle up with you. But if you want to think of me as a dog, I wouldn’t mind it at all if you rubbed my belly and petted my hair.”

Her cheeks turn crimson again. She walks over to her desk chair and snatches a couple items of clothing off the back. “I’m going to brush my teeth and change into my pj’s. If you want to wash up, there are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom, but I’m using it first so you wait your turn.” She darts out of the room again.

I sit up, peel my shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor. Then I shove my jeans down my hips, leaving me in a pair of black boxer-briefs. I realize that this is my first sleepover with a girl. I’ve never let anyone spend the night at my place or any of my hotel suites. I suddenly wonder if W ever slept in this bed and my hands curl into fists. I hate the idea of that loser sleeping with Vaughn, even if he wasn’t sleeping with Vaughn.

“Oh.” A squeak sounds from the doorway. Vaughn’s gaze darts from my face to my underwear and then back up.

“I made myself comfy,” I say, hoping the magic word—comfy—will make her stop fidgeting like that.

It does. Kind of. She’s still blushing as she climbs onto the bed, but she doesn’t ask me to put my clothes on. She’s wearing enough clothes for the both of us anyway. Flannel pajama pants and an oversize pink T-shirt with the words... I squint...

“I’m sorry, but does your shirt say Bennett Family Fun-Time Weekend?”

She sighs. “Don’t judge me. It’s not my fault that my parents were dorks.”

“Nuh-uh, babe. You’re the one who’s choosing to sleep in that monstrosity. Take responsibility for it.”

“But it’s so soft,” she protests. “It feels nice against my skin.”

I tug her toward me. “You feel nice against my skin,” I say thickly, and then I slide one bare leg between her flannel-clad legs and nuzzle her neck with my chin.

She makes a breathy sound. “What are you doing?”

“Holding you. Got a problem with that?”

“I thought you were tired...”

“I’m never too tired for this.”

Her laughter vibrates between us. I love the sound of it. I love that I’m the one who summons it out of her.

I groan in displeasure when she sits up. Oh, good, she’s only leaning over to turn off the light. Darkness bathes the room, but her curtains are sheer so there’s plenty of moonlight shining through them, illuminating Vaughn’s pretty face.

“Do you want to get under the covers?” she whispers.

My mouth runs dry. I cough. “Uh, sure.” I know that’s not an invitation to...do stuff, but it still succeeds in confusing my body. I angle my hips away to spare us both any embarrassment. She’ll probably freak out if she realizes I’m turned on.

The bedsheets rustle as Vaughn and I slide under them. This time I don’t even have to reach for her—she nestles against me willingly, one warm hand resting on the center of my chest.

“Your heart’s beating superfast.”

Shit, I was hoping she wouldn’t notice that. But she’s so close to me, and she smells so good, feels so soft and warm, that I can’t help but be affected. My lips go as dry as my mouth. They even start tingling.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I run my fingers through her hair. “I’m great.”

There’s a long pause. “You are. Great, that is.” Her soft breath tickles my shoulder. “Are you too tired to kiss me?”

Her teasing voice makes me chuckle. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

Her whispered response sends my heart soaring.

I roll over so we’re both on our sides. Her eyes gleam in the darkness, and she licks her lips. It’s so hot that I shudder. My heart hammers so fast and so hard that I’m afraid she might be able to hear it. But if she does, she doesn’t say anything. She leans closer until our lips are an inch apart.

I touch her cheek then bridge the rest of the distance and press my mouth to hers. Oh, man. It’s always like this when I kiss her—that incredible sense of belonging, a fierce jolt of pleasure as her lips melt into mine. She tastes like toothpaste and something sweeter, something uniquely Vaughn. We’re breathless by the time we break apart, but our mouths don’t stay idle for long. Before I can speak, she kisses me again, and those amazing sensations rise up all over again.

“Oak,” she whispers.

“Mmmm?” My hand moves up and down her slender hip before resting on her ass.

“This feels nice.”

I laugh hoarsely. “Yeah, it does.” We kiss again, long and deep, our tongues dancing. “I...”

I’m falling in love with you.