The Stranger / Chris Evans x OC

Chapter 47: Reality

AMELIA

I wake up the next morning in Chris' arms. 

He must have pulled out and moved us around during the night, because I'm not sleeping on top of him like I was when I fell asleep. I feel him spooning me, his arm tight around my waist and his soft snores in my ear. 

I move my thighs a little, wincing slightly at the soreness but quickly realizing it's not as bad as it could have been. 

Waking up next to Chris is the most amazing feeling in the world. 

I've been lucky enough to have woken up like this every morning since the first time we had sex. 

Some mornings he would have to leave, to go to the lot, and most of those times, he would bring me with him. 

But today is different. 

Because today he has the day off. Which means we get to spend the entire day together, just being around each other. 

And I've quickly realized that those days are my absolute favorite. 

I'm mentally making a list of everything we could do, while also subconsciously knowing that we'll probably end up spending the entire day cuddled up with each other anyway, when Chris shifts against me. 

He's cuddling me from behind as his lips start trailing up my shoulder. 

"Morning, baby," he whispers, his voice deep and raspy and it makes my stomach flip, the butterflies that were lying dormant during the night now awake and active once again. 

"Good morning, boyfriend," I reply with a giggle and it makes him chuckle against my skin as he plants another kiss there. 

"Mmh, I like when you call me that," he says as he kisses his way up to my neck, "Sounds nice." 

"Oh yeah?" I say with a faint smirk on my lips, "Then I'll keep doing it." 

"Please do," Chris whispers in my ear before dipping down, nipping at the skin of my neck. 

I'm wiggling my hips against him and pressing myself further into his chest when his phone goes off on the nightstand. 

He elects to ignore it, continuing to kiss and nip at my skin until it stops ringing. 

But when it rings again right after, he groans in frustration. 

"Can't get any fucking peace," he grumbles as he reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone. 

He pulls me to him, moving me so I can rest my head on his chest as he answers the phone, and I start drawing invisible lines on his chest as soon as he does. 

"What?!" He says as he answers the phone, the tone in his voice obviously annoyed. 

I continue running my fingers up and down his chest, gently touching the tattoos adorning it, and right as my fingers are drawing out the word Dodger over where it's written on his skin, I stiffen when I hear him speak. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He says sternly and it makes me tilt my head, glancing up at his face. 

His brows are furrowed, his expression stern and serious, making me instantly worry. 

I flatten my hand on his chest unconsciously, not even realizing that I'm doing it until I feel his heart beating quickly against my palm. 

"How did they get that?" he asks the person on the phone and I just keep looking up at him as he's looking at the ceiling.