Savior

Twelve: Mia

I woke up the next morning feeling every ounce of the booze I had ingested the night before. I wasn't much of a drinker. A cocktail or two was usually my limit, but something about being surrounded by my family and the people they very loosely called friends, turned me into a lush. I was grateful that I had Wes by my side all night, or it would've been a lot less enjoyable. Or not enjoyable at all, rather.

Wes was still quietly snoring at my side, his chiseled chest rising and falling softly. The bedsheet was draped over his waist, cutting off at his thighs, his tanned, toned legs nearly stretching off the bed. He was such a beautiful creature. Inside and out. The more I got to know him, the more his heart outshone even his beauty. His attentiveness, his innate desire to protect me. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. No one, aside from Jazz, had ever stepped up for me the way he had. I was in serious danger of falling for this man, despite all my awkward shyness and original denial. Every minute we were together proved that he wasn't the heartless player the media made him out to be. He was kind. He was warm. He was... perfect. Perfect and exhausted and oh so beautiful as he dozed next to me.

As I moved to slink out of bed, he rolled over, his muscled arm instantly pinning down my waist. I swallowed down a giggle, but one of his crystal-colored eyes slowly opened.

"Where, exactly, are you going?" he questioned groggily.

I laughed, sinking back into the mattress and turning onto my side. I reached up, brushing the sandy curls from his forehead. "I was trying not to wake you."

"What time is it?"

I shrugged. "Early. My body doesn't know how to sleep in."

"Mine either," he stated before a yawn stretched his jaw. "I usually go to the gym early and nap later."

"I will definitely be requiring a nap later," I giggled as his yawn became mine. He tugged me a bit closer, and my palms came to rest against his chest. Suddenly the awkwardness of the night before came rushing back to me. The way I'd thrown myself at him. The tears that clouded my eyes when he turned me down. "Um, I feel like I need to apologize to you..."

At my words, both of his eyes opened wide. "What in the hell for?"

"Last night. How... pushy... I was..."

"Mia, stop it," he said with a bit of a laugh. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"That's not me. That's not... how I operate."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What isn't?"

"The way I threw myself at you. I'm not usually that..."

"Hot?" he asked with a grin. "Mi, seriously. Get out of your head. It's fine. Trust me, if I'd had a few more drinks in me, I would've been the one apologizing for the disappointing performance."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I'm serious, Wes..."

"And so am I," he interrupted again, as his fingertips began stroking the bit of skin between my bunched up tank and shorts. "There's nothing wrong with wanting or liking sex, Mia. You're human. It's a basic instinct. I just... I want to make sure that it's the right time. I didn't want you to wake up, beating yourself up for rushing into something. I want it to be right for you."

"What about you?"

He chuckled as his eyes closed, but his fingers kept tracing my skin. "It's always the right time for me. But... I actually care about you, unlike anyone I've probably ever been with so..."

I sighed and waved my head softly, my hand brushed the scruff along his jaw. "Once again, you say all the right things."

He huffed out a laugh. "Once again? Trust me, I'm not all that. Being a good guy last night was definitely a struggle."