killed one of his brothers right in front of him and also cut the balls off…” I stop, not wanting to spoil it for a Game of Thrones virgin. “It’s pretty much perfect.”
“You’re more bloodthirsty than I realized. I like this side of you.” He pats the mattress, wanting me to join him. “You need to educate me.”
I arch a brow. “You wanna watch?”
“You said blood and gore and sex. Toss in a dragon and I’m all yours.”
I laugh and ease in next to him. “The guy with the dark hair, he’s about to—shit, I can’t tell you. If you want to be a Game of Thrones fan, you have to start from the beginning. You have to know everyone’s backstory and why they do what they do.” I give him a look. “You can’t just start in the middle.”
“Ah, sometimes the middle works out.” His lips curve up as he gazes at me, and his eyes are on my chest, lingering before coming up.
I restart the series at season one, episode one.
“Let us begin,” he says softly.
I swallow, feeling the warmth of his bicep as it brushes against me. “Begin what?”
“The show. What else?” There’s an amused glint in his gaze until he gets serious. He toys with a piece of my hair. “Sugar, I’m sorry for being a total jerk. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to like control. When I don’t have it, I might say something shitty, but I’m the first to admit when I’m wrong and I’ll apologize for it.”
“Okay.”
And that’s it. I let it go.
I nod and turn to watch as the episode starts. I explain some about the author and the rabid fan base that has made the show popular.
He’s watching my mouth and I elbow him. “Are you listening to me?”
He blinks and looks back at the TV screen. “Totally.”
With a heavy sigh, I settle in, leaning against his shoulder.
22
Zack
I stare down at a softly snoring Sugar as the credits roll up. Her head is turned at an angle as it rests on my shoulder, and there’s a small piece of sugar from a donut at the corner of her mouth.
I lean down and lick it off, and she shifts against me, the skin of her arms soft as she moves, curling them around my bicep and then snaking up around my neck. As if she’s done it before, her fingers toy with the strands of my hair, twisting them around her fingers.
Pulling on my hair is a siren’s call.
She says my name under her breath, her lids fluttering as she sleeps, and I know she’s dreaming about me.
She moans, her leg easing out from under the blanket we grabbed earlier.
She’s so gorgeous, all soft and pliant, but I didn’t come here for that.
“This is the most agreeable I’ve ever seen you,” I say in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake her yet needing to talk to her. I feel entirely content and happy right now, and I’m not sure that’s happened in a really long time.
She mumbles something, and a little frown knits her brow. I hold back a laugh. She’s probably going off on me in her dream. Don’t call me babe.
I won’t, and maybe, just maybe, I can get her to go out with me—for real, not any of this pretend bullshit.
I shift so the arm she’s lying on slides more fully around her.
She sighs when I lean down to smell her hair.
Another mumble and then she chuckles—actually laughs.
“What are you snickering about, sleep talker?” I ask her.
“Take off your shirt.” Her hands tangle in my hair. “I want to see your dragon tattoo.”
“Your wish is my command,” I say, easing her out of the way to lift my tight black running shirt off over my head.
Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”
I shrug. “You ordered me to take my shirt off. Happy to oblige.”
She straightens herself, scooting her bottom up until our faces are closer. “I did? I must have been half asleep.”
“Just following orders.”
“Oh,” she says as she pats at her hair and throws a glance around the room, squinting as she takes in the time on the desk clock.
“It’s three in the morning. I watched a few episodes of that crazy-ass show. There are some sick characters. I like it,” I say, tossing my shirt on the floor and turning back to her wide gaze. “Feels as if we’re the only people alive in the world right now.”