Not that it was a question.
But her answer?
She directed another huge-ass smile at him.
Then she whispered, “Okay.”
Chapter Eleven
Round Two
Six oh three the next morning
“Baby, wake up.”
I drifted out of sleep, my eyes opening and at what I saw, I was certain I was still dreaming.
Chace, sitting on the edge of the bed in a pair of those long, loose running shorts and one of those skintight running shirts that had the awesome stitching and a collar that went halfway up his neck, both navy blue.
How had I never seen this? I’d been avidly watching him for years. I’d even seen him run and this was on numerous occasions. He was usually wearing track pants and one of those tops with the half-zip at the throat (an outfit that was also awesome but not near as awesome as this one) or loose running shorts and a tee. Granted, if I got a look at him somewhere mid- to end of run, his shirt was plastered to him with sweat. Which, for Chace, was a good look.
Still.
This was much better.
I pried my eyes from the muscles outlined rather spectacularly by his shirt and blinked at his face.
When he had my eyes, he spoke softly, “Goin’ for a run. When I get back, I’ll take a quick shower. We’ll hit the store, pick up some shit for Malachi and grab a coffee before we go to the library.”
I wasn’t keeping up. I was in a haze from sleep, doing that sleeping next to him (which was yummy) and him looking super, double-dose hot in the morning. I couldn’t process the English language.
Therefore, I murmured, “What?”
He grinned and that didn’t make things better.
Then he leaned deeper into me so his grinning, handsome face was close. And, incidentally, so was the skintight shirt and the muscles it covered.
Therefore there was no way I would process his, “I’m goin’ for a run. We got shit to do when I get back and not much time to do it in so get your shower, I’ll grab a quick one when I get home and some food and we’ll move. Yeah?”
As he spoke, my eyes drifted down his chest and when he stopped speaking, some part of my brain registered it was my turn so I asked, “How do you get a shirt that tight on?”
“Faye,” he called and my eyes floated back up to him. When they hit his, his eyes moved over my face and he muttered, “Fuck, you this cute and sleepy when I talked to you all those times on the phone?”
“Probably,” I answered since it was a question but it also likely wasn’t the truth. He wasn’t looking hot sitting on the bed with me when I was talking to him on the phone. He was somewhere else just sounding hot. Now I had both.
“Fuck it,” he muttered like he wasn’t talking to me then carried on, “I’ll run after work.”
That was when I found my sleep warm body plucked out of bed and dragged across his lap. He twisted, rolled and then I was back in bed but not under the covers, under Chace.
I blinked up at him again.
“You wanna know how I get this shirt on?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed.
His mouth came to mine, his eyes looking into mine and he whispered against my lips, “Then take it off.”
I was sleepy, this was true. I was hazy, this was true too.