Frozen

Chapter 8)

Brianna

I woke up slowly. Maybe it was my brain trying to prolong my time in Barney's arms, maybe I had just slept really well, but by the time I was fully awake I realized Barney was too.

During the night we had shifted. He was laying on his back, one of his muscular arms curved around my waist, his big warm hand resting on my hip, and I felt a finger from his other hand lightly tracing patterns along my spine. My legs were tangled in his, my cheek resting on his chest, both of my hands resting next to my face. When he realized I'd woken up, his finger stopped moving and left my back to tilt my face up to look at him. His eyes were soft with sleep, his hair sexily messy, and he wasn't smiling.

"We need to talk about what happened last night," he said gently.

I swallowed. I knew he would want to talk, I just haven't figured out exactly how to get out of spilling my life story.

"Barney, no offense, but we don't exactly have the deep talk kind of relationship," I said coldly. His eyes narrowed.

"What if I said I wanted us to," he said and I blinked a few times and my head drew back a little.

"But last night you said-"

"Last night, I was pissed because you said all you wanted was sex. Now, I've had time to reflect, and I know that you were lying. So, I'm not pissed anymore." My jaw clenched.

"How do you know I was lying?" I challenged.

He leaned his face closer to mine and grinned.

"Because someone who only wanted sex wouldn't cry in my arms. She wouldn't kneel on the floor in a hot little dress to pet my dog. She wouldn't get all shy and anxious and bite her lip after saying she wanted me for dinner," he said, thumbing my lower lip.

So much for cool, collected, mysterious, and sexy.

"Well, I only said that because I knew that's what you wanted," I defended. His eyebrows scrunched together and his head jerked.

"What?" he asked scarily.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a second before looking back at him.

"Look, Hazel told me," I said softly.

"Hazel told you that I only wanted to fuck you?" he asked in a dangerously calm voice.

I shook my head.

"No, Hazel told me about the girls. All the girls that you only want to have sex with, and I realized that must be why you wanted to go out with me," I explained.

He blinked then suddenly his face contorted into a combination of confusion and rage.

"Why the fuck would you think that?" he roared.

I blinked at his anger, but didn't respond.

"Jesus H. Christ, Brianna, if you had just fucking asked me what I wanted from you, you could've saved us both the fucking disaster that was last night and we could have gone on a nice, fucking normal date," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face.

I narrowed my eyes.

"So, what, are you saying that you didn't just want to screw me?" I challenged.

"Yes!" he said, those baby blues wide with exasperation. "That's what I'm fucking saying!"

I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to tell if he was lying or not. He obviously realized this, because he rolled his eyes and shifted me off of him.

"Fine," he said, pulling on a pair of jeans that were laying by his bed, "I'll prove it to you."

He grabbed a pair of his sweats,and one of his t-shirts.