21. A False Picture

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The next morning...

Sheri's POV

Michael always said sleeping wasn't his best sport but he was definitely scoring points that morning! My brain doubled as an alarm clock and I woke up at around 6:30 am. I had my first day at work at Universal Studios—you heard me—on an actual movie set. Not just any movie set though, a Martin Scorsese one! I should've gotten the hell out of bed, but I wanted to lie there next to him for a few more stolen moments. I stared up at him from a tangle of sheets—he was on his side, facing me, lightly snoring away. His hair was a total mess but sleeping never looked so sexy. The early morning sun streamed through the parted drapes, casting lines over him.

Obviously, I took advantage of the moment to drink in Michael's good looks, 'cause who wouldn't if he was lying there right next to them? I let my gaze trail from his closed eyes to his small, perfect nose, down to his shapely, pale pink lips. I let my fingertips initiate subtle contact with 'em to satisfy my urge to kiss him. He has no clue how attractive he is. I wanted to touch him but he looked so peaceful, dreaming away, and I didn't wanna disturb him.

I carefully spooned into him instead and slid my arm underneath his. I smiled to myself. Just one more minute. Then I'm up. His warm, light breathing puffed against the back of my neck, creating tickling sensations. Now I really, really didn't wanna get outta that bed but told myself I would before he'd open his eyes, knowing he wouldn't let me leave.

A deep groan sounded from behind me, followed by a slight movement on his side of the bed, and I knew what was about to happen next.

"Sheri," he yawned, then asked in a raspy whisper, "are you awake?"

Damn it. One more minute. "Mm-hm." I stretched and turned over to face him. He'd moved onto his back, so I slipped myself up onto his chest and leaned towards him to kiss his cheek. "Morning."

"Good morning," he said, attempting a weak smile. I quietly giggled at his sexy morning voice; it was a little deeper than his usual low falsetto.

I folded my arms and rested my chin on them. "You sleep okay?"

He nodded and then furrowed his eyebrows, "it's early."

"I got work," I reminded him.

He absently twisted my curls around his forefinger. "Oh yeah, it's your first day, you excited?"

I answered his question with a shrug. "I'd rather stay here with you if that's what you mean."

A smirk played on his lips and he fiddled with my hair some more.

"But I gotta get up," I said, and without warning, I tried to untangle myself from him but he didn't make it easy; he clung to me right away and I was caught in his arms like a butterfly in a net. "Michael..." I pleaded, and a laugh escaped from me before I could suppress it.

He kissed my shoulder. "Don't go yet."

"I'd stay if I could...but you got rehearsals later on, too." And then you're gonna leave the country for like a year.

He spoke on my bare skin, his voice reduced to a crooning whisper, "I'd cancel it for you."

His fingertips brushed on the back of my hand like a feather. I didn't move and just spent a moment to take on board that this was real. It was actually happening; I found someone who cared and loved me the way I wanted and there I was, starting my day with him. For some reason, I had a suspicion that it was all a damn good dream and I'd wake up any second. But the feel of his body right there beside me was no imitation. It was reality.

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