𝓣𝓦𝓘𝓢𝓣𝓔𝓓 𝓛𝓞𝓥𝓔

(⁠.⁠⁠❛⁠⁠ᴗ⁠⁠❛⁠.⁠) 10

𝘼𝙫𝙖

Something smelled delicious,like spice and heat. I wanted to wrap it around me like a blanket.

I snuggled closer to the source, enjoying the strong, solid warmth beneath my cheek. I didn’t want to wake up, but I’d promised Bridget I would volunteer at a local pet shelter with her this morning, before my afternoon shift at the gallery.

I allowed myself one more minute of coziness—had my bed always been this big and soft—before I opened my eyes and yawned.

Weird. My room looked different. No photograph prints papering the walls, no vase of sunflowers by the bed. And did my bed just move by itself?

My eyes latched onto the broad expanse of bare skin beneath me, and my stomach dropped. I looked up, up—straight into a pair of familiar green eyes. Eyes that stared back at me with no hint of the humor from last night.

He flicked his gaze down. I followed it…and realized, to my abject horror, that I was touching Alex Volkov’s dick. Unintentionally, and he had on sweats, but still.

I. Was. Touching. Alex. Volkov’s. Dick.

And it was hard.

Mortification washed over me in a tidal wave. Move your hand. Move it now! My brain screamed, and I wanted to. I really did. But I stayed frozen, paralyzed by shock and humiliation and something else I would rather not name.

A brief image flashed through my mind of what Alex must be packing beneath his pants. I had a feeling—pun intended—it would rival that of any male porn star.

“Please remove your hand from my cock unless you plan on doing something with it,” Alex said coolly.

I finally yanked my hand away and scrambled back, my heart beating a wild rhythm in my chest as I tried to get my bearings.

“What happened? Why am I here? Did we—did you and I—” I gestured between us, sick with anticipation.

Oh, God, Josh would kill me, and I couldn’t even blame him.

I’d slept with my brother’s best friend.

Shit!

“Relax.” Alex rolled out of bed, lithe and graceful as a panther. Sunlight streamed through the windows and illuminated his sculpted frame, casting his perfectly carved chest and abs in a pale glow. “You fell asleep during that dog movie and it was raining, so I brought you up here. The end.”

“So we didn’t…”

“Fuck? No.”

“Oh, thank God.” I pressed a hand to my forehead, relief a cool balm to the heat on my cheeks. “That would’ve been awful.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” Alex said dryly.

“You know what I mean. Josh would’ve murdered us, brought us back to clean up the mess, then murdered us again. Not that I want to sleep with you either way.” Liar, an annoying voice in my head whispered. I shoved it aside. “You’re not my type.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “No? Then who, pray tell, is your type?”

It was too early for this. “Um…” I scrambled to think of a safe answer. “Ian Somerhalder?”

He let out a derisive snort. “Better than the sparkly vampire,” he muttered. “Newsflash, Sunshine, you and Ian aren’t happening.”

I rolled my eyes and got out of bed, flinching when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Wrinkled dress, tangled hair, pillow creases on my cheek, and was that a line of crusted drool on the side of my lips? Yeah, I wouldn’t win a beauty contest anytime soon.