Love & War | Brad Simpson ✔️

38. "Babe, you really don't give yourself enough credit"

Brad stays in my room again that night, with Connor apparently saying he would cover for us if need be. Even though we're up until late (and I'm sure you can guess why), Brad makes the wise decision to set an alarm on his phone so that we don't have a repeat of yesterday morning. The boys have a gig in Liverpool tonight so we have a fairly decent drive to cover today, and that means an early start.

Brad's alarm sounds like the most obnoxious thing I've ever heard when it goes off early this morning. I want to throw his phone at a wall because I'm sure I've never been awoken so rudely. Brad's body shifts beside me and I feel him lean across me to switch it off. As he lies back down again, his strong arms slip around me tightly and pull me against him, his warm chest pressed against my back.

"Babe? You awake?" He mumbles, nuzzling his face into my hair. His morning voice is by far the hottest thing I've ever heard come out of anyone's mouth.

"No" I hum, making him chuckle lightly.

"We need to get up," he says, his voice still a little croaky.

"No"

"You say any other words?"

"No"

His arms unravel from around me as he sits up beside me and I make a noise of disapproval at the feeling of the loss of warmth now that the duvet has exposed my back a little.

"Too cold" I groan, grabbing the duvet and yanking it away from Brad. I tuck the warm covers under my body so I'm wrapped up like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

"Oh, don't worry about me being cold," he says flatly, I peek over the thick material to see that he's now sat naked on the bed because I have every inch of the duvet.

"I won't" I smirk. I'm actually very glad. I can't think of much else I'd rather look at than a naked Brad.

"It's a good job I'm not self-conscious" He tuts and I watch as he climbs off the bed and grabs his boxers from the floor, pulling them up over his legs and bum.

"You have nothing to be self-conscious about," I say, tucking my head back under the duvet.

"Neither do you" I hear him say, which makes me laugh dryly. Let's not get into the topic of everything about my average-looking body that I don't like.

I feel a hand tug the duvet sharply and a small squeal leaves my mouth.

"No!" I whine, gripping the duvet tightly, "I'm naked"

"You know, I've seen you naked a lot in the past 36 hours" I hear him chuckle.

"Doesn't mean I want you seeing me naked now, in the unforgiving light of day" I grumble, sitting up but keeping the duvet wrapped around me, "can you pass me my pyjama shorts?

"Pyjama shorts" he snickers, shaking his head as he looks across the floor for where they are, "you have a very fluid definition of the term 'pyjama shorts'"

"They're short, and they're part of a pyjama set so they're pyjama shorts" I argue.

"They're not pyjamas, babe"

"They are!" I counter, "Victoria's Secret advertised them as pyjamas"

"I think Victoria's secret is that they're not fucking pyjamas, they're underwear" he mutters, making me laugh. He finds the knicker-shorts by the foot of the bed and tosses them at me playfully.

"Stop complaining or I'll never wear them again" I threaten as I pull them on whilst still under the duvet and then climb out from underneath it. He keeps quiet as I find his t-shirt and throw it on over my torso. Then I pick up my suitcase from the corner of the room and dump it on the bed, unzipping it.