Love, Comment, Subscribe by Cathy Yardley

CHAPTER 28

Lily was nervous. This seemed so stupid. When she’d made the offer, it was with a few things in mind: the fact that their last video idea had come in the middle of the night, sort of turnabout for him offering her a place to stay when she was in Ponto Beach. Who knew, maybe he’d come up with an idea for a video in the middle of the night again. And even if he didn’t, she was saving him money on a hotel . . . even if he did have to share a bed.

Sure. That kiss hadnothing to do with your offer.

She frowned, getting herself a glass of water. The thing was, he had plenty of money for a hotel, and there were plenty of places for him to stay in Los Angeles. Nice places. He hadn’t been drinking, like she had been. He’d hung out with her and kept her company as she’d edited the video more quickly than any she’d ever done, and she’d posted it before she could overthink it. It wasn’t even that late at night, now that she glanced at the clock.

So why had she offered for him to, essentially, sleep with her?

You’re going to need to talk about that kiss, dammit.

Her cheeks burned. “I’m, um, going to take a shower,” she said, rubbing her arm and shifting her weight from one leg to another. “Then I guess I’ll, um, turn in?”

“I’m gonna watch a little TV first, if that’s okay?” he said. He looked a little wild himself.

You have to talk about it!

She took a shower, taking a bit longer than usual, her body feeling almost oversensitive in the spray. This was, potentially, a colossally bad idea. She was working with him, for God’s sake.

Wait. What, exactly, did she want here?

Was she trying to seduce him?

She bit her lip. She’d told Mikki that she was looking for a hookup. Was that what this was? Her long-ignored hormones just pushing their way forward and demanding satisfaction?

She pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a camisole before wrapping her shoulder-length hair in a towel and quickly patting most of it dry. She sighed, then forced herself back out to the living room.

Tobin wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was still wearing his shorts, his feet bare. He was on her uncomfortable but stylish couch, watching some sort of sitcom on the big-screen TV. She forced herself to yawn dramatically, stretching her arms over her head. Unfortunately, this made her camisole ride up slightly, and she quickly dropped her posture, covering her stomach.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep now,” she said, but her voice was hesitant.

Is that really what she wanted? His eyes were still fixed on her stomach, that flash of skin, and she felt a corresponding flash of heat.

What the hell was she doing?

She had a plan for everything—what she wanted in life, and how to get it. Why didn’t she have a plan now?

“I’m kind of tired myself,” he admitted, and her heart started beating wildly. “Guess I’ll come to bed too.”

He followed her into her bedroom. She felt her breathing quicken and tried desperately to calm herself down. “Do you have a preference for which side you sleep on?” he asked.

She quickly shook her head, and he took the side closest to the door. It felt kind of protective, which seemed ridiculous, but still sent a shivery flutter through her stomach. She climbed in gingerly on the other side of him.

“So. You big spoon this time, or little spoon?”

She knew he was joking, but instead of laughing, her heart sped up a bit. She started to roll over to turn out the light, hoping the darkness would at least hide her confusion, when she heard him sigh. She froze when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Lily,” he said. “Are we really going to ignore what happened? Because I can if you really want to, but it seems like, all things considered, we might want to talk about the fact that we were all over each other, before we go ahead and share a bed.”

She spun to look at him. There was a mix of emotions in his expression: amusement, patience. And hunger. So much that she started to lean forward despite herself.

“Um, we can do more than talk too,” he rasped, his eyes widening. “If that’s what you want. I’m certainly not gonna say no.”

He was putting the ball in her court. She could feel the heat coming off him, and her body wanted to curl against that heat so badly she thought she’d go mad with it. She swallowed hard. It would be easy to just have sex with him. They both wanted it; that much was clear.

But what would that mean?She wasn’t going to sneak out and leave a note, for God’s sake. This was her apartment. And they still had more videos to do.

Besides . . .

What if she didn’t want it to just be a hookup?

The thought stunned her momentarily. Bad enough she was attracted to Tobin, but at least it was understandable. He was hot, with his dark eyes and that sexy smile and that goddamned rumbly voice, ugh. And if his kisses were any indication, sex with the man was going to be devastating.

But he was kind. He was loyal to his friends. He was understanding and a great listener. He was supportive. He snuggled like he medaled in it at the Olympics. She enjoyed spending time with him and joking over texts with him.

So what if she wanted more than just sex?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Tobin teased, tucking a lock of hair away from her eyes and behind her ear, then gently stroking along her neck until she shivered. “If you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s fine. Hell, if you want me to sleep on one of those torture devices you call a couch, I’ll be happy to. We don’t have to do a damned thing, Lils, I promise. I just . . .” He let out a low, strained laugh. “I really like you. I mean, I’ve always liked you; we’ve been friends—one way or another—forever. But . . .”

“But this is different,” she whispered. “Isn’t it?”

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “It is for me,” he said quietly.

“Me too.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “This is so weird.”

“I know, right?” He laughed, self-deprecating.

“I want to have sex with you,” she blurted out, and his laughter stopped like a needle yanked off a record. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got an inkling,” he croaked.

“But . . . I don’t want to screw things up?” she said, frustrated with herself. “I don’t want to just have it, and then have it not . . . matter? I don’t want it to be something we fell into accidentally, or felt regrets about afterward. Not just because of the videos but because I don’t want to lose you again.”

He looked surprised at her comment.

“I’m starting to see just how much I lost when I lost touch with the Nerd Herd,” she said, feeling sheepish. “And I never saw you. Not the real you. I don’t want to go back to radio silence.”

“You won’t,” he said, stroking her cheek. “I promise.”

“So . . . maybe we could . . . take things slow?” she mused.

His hand dropped, and she felt its loss. Then he looked at the two of them in bed and burst out laughing. “Um . . .”

“I didn’t plan this, okay? I just blurted stuff out, and said, ‘Let’s share a bed,’ and here we are,” she grumbled. “This is why I try to think things through!” She buried her face in her hands.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He tugged her hands down, then leaned forward and kissed her—a soft little kiss that was over before she could really enjoy it. “We can go as slow as you like.”

“Really?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. She had no idea how outrageously sexy an eyebrow could be.

“Remember that whole seven-minutes-in-heaven fiasco?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Maybe not the time to remind me that you puked on my shoes, Tobin.”

“I paid Josh twenty dollars to rig that game for me.”

She gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“And I took that Goldschläger shot to give myself liquid courage to do what I’d wanted to do for a while,” he said. “Afterward, I convinced myself that I wasn’t into you, or that it wouldn’t have mattered if we had kissed, because nothing else would’ve happened. But yeah, Lily. I’ve wanted you for well over a decade.” His lopsided smile made her stomach swoop. “I’m playing a long game here, so take your time.”

She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. Then she turned off the light, and turned back to him.

“I don’t like to rush into sex,” she said in the darkness, before reaching for him under the covers. Her hands brushed against his chest, and she heard him issue a low groan as she moved toward him, swimming over the sheets until she was flush against his body. “Not when it matters.”

“And this matters?” His breath was hot against her ear, and she could feel his heart racing under her palm.

“Yes,” she murmured against his lips. “It matters a lot.”

“Damn right it does,” he agreed and then stopped talking entirely as his mouth plundered hers.

She couldn’t remember being kissed like this before . . . like it was the most engrossing act in the world. Most of the guys she’d been with—and that was not a terribly long list—were all right. A few were sloppy or clumsy, but their enthusiasm made up for their shortcomings. This was like a master class in kissing. His mouth was agile and expressive and oh my God. They were on their sides, writhing against each other with increasing frustration. He wasn’t going for the obvious, her boobs or her ass. Instead, his fingertips were dragging along her back, smoothing under her sleep shirt and pressing her against him. She mimicked the action by winding her arms around his neck, holding him tight as her tongue tangled with his. He sucked on her lower lip, and she let out a little cry of pleasure, melting against him.

Her thighs were pressed together against the dampness that was quickly growing. She could feel his hardness straining against his shorts, poking against her hip. She moved to cradle it against herself, and they both gasped.

“Okay, that’s not fair,” he said, his voice shaking.

“You know,” she said, her breathing ragged. “Slowness? Totally overrated.”

In the low light filtering through her bedroom window, she could see his eyes gleam, and he looked ready to pounce. Then, to her shock, he actually threw himself flat on his back, making the blankets tent with his erection. He seemed to be gritting his teeth.

“It matters,” he said. “You matter.”

She bit her lip. He was right. That had been her boundary, and she knew that if she gave in to her hormones now, she’d probably regret it later. He knew it too. And he was making sure that he respected that boundary.

It made her fall for him, just that little bit more.

I am in trouble here.