The last thing James "Jay" Hale ever imagined was to begrudgingly return to Beacon Hills, find out his older sister was murdered, and then be forced to go on a wild goose chase after some fuck ass Alpha that seemed to have a particular interest in r...
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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:
Distractions
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Jay bit into a chocolate muffin, occasionally glancing over at the pink gloves on Lydia's hands every few seconds while she steadfastly ignored his looks and continued to drive.
Her phone call that morning, demanding he get ready for her to pick up on the way to school, was both a blessing and a curse.
A curse—because it ruined what had to be the best slumber of Jay's life.
A blessing—because it ruined what had to be the best slumber of Jay's life.
It went like this: Jay had been in a half-asleep state of perfection. Sunlight was streaming through the window, caressing his face, while the melodic chirping of birds outside set a Disney-esque scene. The warmth rose him from the depths of REM, bringing him slowly to consciousness. Somehow, he'd been in such a deep sleep that he hadn't woken up even once throughout the night—which was crazy because he usually tossed and turned in discomfort, averaging at least ten rousings per night. His body felt heavy from relaxation, his arms wrapped tightly around what had to be the most comfortable pillow in the world, and his face nuzzled into something warm and soft.
He would've lulled back into sleep if it wasn't for the sudden shifting of the pillow underneath him. The pillow. . . which was very human-shaped all of a sudden.
Then he remembered last night, and the new term "Stiles-shaped" took residence in his mind like a blaring red light screaming for him to wake the fuck up and face reality.
They'd fallen asleep spooning, and sometime in the middle of the night, Jay had flipped around to drape himself over Stiles in an unconscious act of holding him hostage with his entire dead weight.
The only reason the sudden position change wasn't enough to startle him fully awake was because Stiles didn't seem to be freaking out. And if Stiles, who was so clearly awake and for who knew how long, wasn't freaking out, then there was really no reason for Jay to freak out and make things way more awkward than they needed to be.
At least not outwardly.
His heart rate was another story entirely, thudding so loud in his ears that it sounded like the organ was going to explode any second. It was difficult to keep his eyes closed and try not to tense his muscles into the rigidity they wanted to tighten into as he just lay there.
Meanwhile, as Jay was willing himself not to have a heart attack and failing, Stiles was having the time of his life.
Yeah, when he woke up he also panicked for approximately ten minutes, overthinking everything and dipping into the harsh territory in his mind that he liked to affectionately call "Crazytown!". But once he got over the shock and insanity of having James Hale attached to him like an octopus, he forced himself to relax and at least enjoy the moment while it lasted.
