The Start of Time

Chapter 28

Gravity bends the rules momentarily when the balls of my feet hit the cold tile of the bathroom. One glimpse of the girl in the mirror, staring back at me with her wild features, and I can't help but laugh before throwing my hair in a messy ball on top of my head.

To say I feel like a new person after last night would be a lie. For something that pulls so hard on your physical and emotional strings, I expected to experience some raging hormone induced regret or self discovery or denial or maybe even love.

Instead, I'm just hit with a new sort of normal. The nice sort of normal. The sort of normal that makes you smile just a little bit bigger. The watch them sleep, facetime when you're apart, have amazing sex sort of normal.

The already too attached for sex to make much of a difference sort of normal.

"Wilder," I call in a soft, sing song voice before clasping my hand over my mouth at the realization that we are probably now surrounded by at least one other sleeping mouth breather, who has no idea I'm here.

For many obvious reasons, the main one being that his sleep is as deep as hibernation, he doesn't answer, and the only sound I get when I place my chin on his chest is a husky morning groan.

While that is way more attractive than I would like to admit, I need him to actually wake up, so I can pester him with questions, including but not limited to any and all details of this thoroughly planned, extravagantly expensive date tonight.

And don't even get me started on all the menial things I need to get done today, including the laundry that has not only piled up at my house but also somehow managed to end up here as well.

But how am I supposed to make myself leave? I'd much rather stay in bed with him all day. Go a few more rounds interspersed between the thrill of doing nothing all day. Order takeout with the highest sodium content possible. Just be together.

But unfortunately that's not an option, especially since he's decided to plan his overly romantic, anxiety inducing night out.

"Hey, Decan?" I ask, running the backside of my fingers up the stubble covering his jawline.

He grumbles something under his breath, but it's too inaudible to piece together. I don't even know why I expected for him to be conscious enough to answer.

I throw my leg over, climbing on top to straddle him, placing small kisses at that one ticklish spot on his neck until he grabs my face, pulling it up towards his.

"Would you fucking stop?"

"I gotta go. I'll call you later, okay?"

"No," he grumbles under his breath, pulling me down to wrap his arms around me and roll us over.

"Yes." I push at his chest.

"Okay," he murmurs, fumbling out a couple more unintelligible words, but all I can make out is something starting with a W or maybe an L and, "Bye."

Lord, I hope he remembers this because if he doesn't, he's going to wake up pissed and confused, panicking about last night like some overly attached woman and the one night stand she caught feelings for.

I'll leave him a cute voicemail or something, right after I make one quick call.

"Hey, Stella."

"Hey," she mumbles groggily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No worries. I was just up late last night."

"I see. Chance keep you up?" I formulate the question slowly enough to add a little bit of insinuation. "I would say I want all the details, but I'm not really into listening to porn."