Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
What I couldn’t figure out, though, as my body and mind started to wake up fully was where my t-shirt was. I wouldn’t have taken it off in front of her in case it was too much, but I also knew I’d gotten into bed with it on anyway. So, where was it?
Before I could lift my head to find it and fix the situation before she woke up, she squirmed deeper into my side, and her arm squeezed me at the same time as she sighed. That was good, right?
Any worries over whether that was the case fled when she did the cutest thing and rubbed her face on my chest sleepily.
I couldn’t help running my fingers through her strawberry blonde strands, stretching them out as far as they’d go. Her hair came to just below her shoulder blades, instead of down to the base of her spine like it’d been at school, and it was thick and silky soft as my fingers glided through it.
What would it be like to knot my fingers up in it?
Her hand clenched on my chest as she rubbed her face again. This time, though, she murmured drowsily, “That feels nice.” When I laughed at the remark and her head bounced with the movement, she added, “That kind of did and didn’t. The vibrations felt like I was having a face massage, but the bounce ruined it.”
I had new information about her to store away now: she was cute all of the time, but she was downright adorable first thing in the morning.
“Sorry, baby. You sounded cute, that’s all.”
The fingers pinching me hard on my side shocked me and made me jerk, not expecting anything close to that. “No one’s cute when they wake up in the morning. Bed hair’s the bane of my life. I rub my face into my pillows when I’m asleep, and it makes my hair clump into dreadlocks.”
Moving my hand around to the side of her head that’d be on my chest when I’d woken up, I sifted my fingers through the hair there, not encountering one ‘dreadlock.’
“Looks like you did okay last night. My fingers just went straight through it.”
Lifting her head, she stared at me, blinking. “Are you serious?”
“Yup, look.” I did it again to show her.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re like one of those expensive silk pillowcases that apparently keeps your hair knot-free, smoothed down, and makes you wake up looking like a supermodel.”
When I didn’t say anything, she added, “You don’t get it, my hair is bad in the morning. Like, bad enough that I have to spray stuff in it just to get the knots out. This has never happened to me.”
Smiling at how excited she was, I changed to scratching the back of her head gently and watched her eyes close slowly like she was in heaven. “If it’s that bad, why didn’t you get the pillowcase?”
“Because they cost a freaking whack, and I’m not the kind of person who pays out two hundred dollars on one pillowcase.”
Hearing the price, my fingers stopped moving as I imagined spending that kind of money on something like that. Not liking it, she opened her eyes and glared at me, prompting me to resume their movements.
“You’re kidding about the price, right?”
“I don’t kid about things when it comes to my hair. There are cheaper alternatives out there, but the reviews don’t really give me much hope, so I haven’t tried them.”
Understanding that seeing as how most of my purchases were based on information and feedback, I shook my head. “I don’t know if I’ve even spent more than ten bucks on a pack of two of the things before.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, consider me your two hundred dollar pillowcase whenever you need me.”
Opening one eye halfway, she grinned at me. “I’ll hold you to that.” After a couple more minutes of me scratching and massaging the back of her head, she lowered her head back onto my chest. “Where’s your t-shirt?”
“Maybe your hair thought it’d tangle it up so it took it off me while we were asleep.”
“It’s got a life and will of its own that no one can make sense of, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”
Smiling up at the ceiling, I moved my hand down her neck and onto her back, gently kneading the muscles I encountered along the way. “You seem relaxed. I was worried you’d freak out.”
“I don’t have a need to freak out, though.”
Lifting my head, I breezed my thumb over the skin of her shoulder, then rubbed up and down where the fabric of her tank top ended, dipping under it from time to time. “Can you explain that to me, baby?”
Wrapping her arm around my waist and shifting her position so that she was snuggled back into my side, she stared blankly across my chest. “You’re Jordan Jinx.” The tone she’d used made those three words sound like they were a perfectly logical explanation, and maybe they were to her.