Bella lifted her
head in the direction of Edward’s voice and found him standing in his doorway
in just a pair of basketball shorts. He’d had first shower tonight and she
could tell from the way the light shined on his wild hair that it was still
damp.
“Everything
okay?” he asked. It seemed that her silence was concerning him; if he knew her
lack of verbal skills was a result of his shirtless state, he’d be impossible
to be around.
She gave herself
a shake and told him, “I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Why
wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re in your
room. You’re usually in mine.”
“Yeah,” he
agreed, running his hand through his wet hair. “I was thinking …”
She walked
toward him; she didn’t like being so far away and unable to see his eyes while they
talked. “Thinking or overthinking?” she asked with a grin.
He waited until
he had his arms around her to answer. “I was thinking you might like to stay in
my room tonight. Have some room to stretch out instead of being scrunched into
your bed.”
“I like being
scrunched in with you.”
“I like it too
but sometimes a little space is nice. More room. Extra pillows.” His touch was
feather-light as he traced the dark skin beneath her eye. “And maybe a longer
stretch of sleep.”
She grinned at
her own naivety—of course he would notice.
He skimmed his
nose along the column of her neck and then pressed a kiss to the underside of
her jaw. “So what do you think? Want to spend the night in my room?”
