Flicking off the overhead light, I turned on my side lamp before crawling under the covers. A few minutes later, Tristan's sinewy frame stood in the doorway as he took off his t-shirt. I couldn't lie, I squinted in the darkness to try and catch the masterpiece that was his upper body in the dim lighting. He walked around to the other side of the bed before unzipping his jeans. "I can't sleep with pants on," he admitted, almost apologetically.

"Me neither."

His eyes flickered up to mine for a brief moment as he shoved his jeans down his long legs, and then climbed onto my bed.

Oh my God.

I blessed the seven angels as I watched the muscles in his arms, back, and abs ripple.

A man that hot should have a squeaky voice. Be dumb. Have a tiny wiener. Even have chicken legs. A third nipple! Or, big nipples!

Anything to balance out the perfection that he was overall, but fucking — and I don't mean literally — Tristan was just perfect and I kind of hated him for it.

He smiled at me smugly, and then wiggled between the covers. I had to wonder whether or not I'd just said any of my thoughts aloud, but I didn't think so. "Read me a bedtime story?" he tried to ask, but laughed instead.

"Shut up," I groaned, tearing my eyes away from his pillowy pecs to turn off the side lamp. My bed was big enough for me. It was a queen-size, but with both of us on it, I couldn't move my hand more than a couple of inches without risking the chance of grazing bare skin that didn't belong to me. Damn it. "Goodnight."

"Night, Kat," he replied. I sensed the movement of his hand before the heat of it. He brushed his fingertips across my palm, squeezing lightly for just a moment.

I laid there, clenching my eyes closed so that I was not tempted to roll over and stare at him in his sleep.

"Kat?"

"Yes?"

He let out another yawn. "You're my favorite person in the world. Goodnight."

I was trying to just manage to breathe, and then think after his words. By the time I realized I should have responded, his breathing was low and even. He'd fallen asleep, and I felt like I just cured cancer. How the hell I managed to fall asleep after that, I wasn't sure. I was aware that at some point, I woke up after dreaming that I peed in the middle of a grocery store. I was secretly paranoid I may have actually peed on myself for the first time in twenty years, not including the little pees I'd experienced laughing. I squeezed my thighs together and thanked Morpheus, the god of dreams, for not being a cruel jokester.

As I came to my senses, I realized that I wasn't on my side of the bed anymore. I was still facing the bathroom door but in the middle of the bed, and there were lips on the back of my neck. Dry lips with warm breath trailed down the length of my neck while a big hand with calloused fingers grazed my bare stomach and hip, pressuring my bladder just the slightest bit. There was a chest so close to my back that I thought if I were to lean back just an inch or two, I'd be pressed against it.

I couldn't help the shiver that rolled through my spine or the goosebumps that prickled up along my arms at the feeling of lips and hands.

Was he awake?

I wanted to know, but I didn't move.

Lips touched the crook of my neck and shoulder but this time they were wet. Then, a second later the mouth disappeared. The hand stayed on my hip and only warm breathing washed over my neck. This was so inappropriate...

I didn't move an inch.

Chapter 36

With a heavy heart, I picked up the phone to call my dad the next afternoon. The previous night's conversation with Tristan had shaken me deeply. Frank, my dad, and I had always had a great relationship. We were each other's best friends for almost ten years after my mom died. My dad always made an effort to stay home and do things with me each chance he got. He didn't go out or do things with his friends unless he took me along. It wasn't until high school that I truly appreciated how great my dad was. It was with that in mind that I felt like a terrible daughter since I hadn't paid him a visit in so long.