And he had.

He also looked like he belonged there.

That half grin was back, and this time it held a wicked, mysterious edge to it. “Get comfortable with me?”

The invitation sounded so harmless and yet it did such strange things to my insides. As I inched forward, I told myself this wasn’t a big deal. We’d shared a bed many times.

But that was back before I’d grown boobs.

Keeping my eyes glued to the hotness that was the Winchester brothers, I climbed onto my bed, shoving my legs under the covers. I didn’t lie down. I was sort of frozen.

“Is Dean still your favorite?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You just like him because he’s a smartass.”

I nodded again.

A hand landed on my back, causing me to jump. “Whoa,” Jensen murmured. “Relax.”


“I am relaxed.” I glanced over my shoulder at him, and he raised a brow. “I am.”

He pulled his hand back, watching me closely. “Do you want me to leave? If so, I’m cool with that. Just tell me when and I’ll—”

“No,” I said quickly, and then I flushed, because I said it a little too quickly and loudly . . . and excitedly.

He chuckled. “Okay.”

Turning back to the TV, I strung together an artwork of f-bombs. It wasn’t like he was here for sex or anything like that, so I needed to chill out. Reaching up, I quickly unhooked the two buttons on my cardigan and slid it off my arms. I tossed it onto the floor and then lay back, tugging the blankets up, stopping short of folding them under my chin.

Neither of us spoke for a couple of minutes. We watched Sam and Dean narrowly escape a spirit who was drowning people in a lake, in bathtubs . . . and sinks.

Then Jensen flipped on his side, facing me. Ten seconds went by before I caved to the urge to look at him. I sucked in a soft breath. Lying like this, we were so close.

His hand rested in the miniscule space between us. “You haven’t been getting a lot of sleep.”

I focused on the neckline of his shirt. “Everyone keeps saying that to me. Do I look that bad?”

“No. You don’t look bad. You just look tired.”

A wry smile pulled at my lips as I placed my hands on my stomach. “That’s a nice way of saying I look bad.”


I bit down on my lip. “I haven’t been sleeping. With everything going on, it’s hard to relax and I keep having nightmares. I know that sounds lame, but I haven’t gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep a night, if that.”

“It’s not lame. It’s understandable.”

Lifting my chin, my gaze met with his. Okay. This was nothing like sharing beds when we were kids. There was something wholly intimate about him lying beside me, the citrus scent of his cologne, plus that—that male scent clung to the covers and every breath I took.

“Are you staying?” I asked.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me here.”

Something akin to pressure circled my chest, but it wasn’t painful. It was pleasant and warm, and the sensation buzzed through my veins. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

He laughed and a lopsided smile transformed his face. “Mom knows where I am. She’s cool with me being here. She knows what’s going on.”

I arched a brow.

That grin turned downright naughty. “But she doesn’t know I’m sleeping in your bed.”

My cheeks heated as I choked on my laugh. “Yeah, I doubt she’d be happy with that.”

Jensen laughed again as he reached over with his hand. His thick lashes lowered as he picked up my hand, wiggling his fingers through mine. That was the only part of us that touched, but I felt it in every fiber of my being.

“You’re missing the start of the next episode,” he murmured.

I’d been staring at him for Lord knows how long. Obediently, I cast my attention to the TV, and a smile formed on my lips. It wasn’t long before my gaze wandered from the TV, falling to where Jensen’s hand was wrapped tightly around mine.


I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep or what woke me up, but I was wrapped in a toasty cocoon. I also couldn’t move my legs, and something heavy and warm held me in place. Blinking my eyes open, my vision was slow to adjust to the darkness of my bedroom.

That was the first indication that something was up.

It had been over a week since I’d fallen asleep without the TV on. Then my snug cocoon shifted behind me, and a warm breath danced along the back of my neck.

My eyes peeled open.

Oh my God, my toasty snug cocoon wasn’t a bunch of blankets.

Jensen was curled up behind me with one arm folded around my waist. One of his legs was tossed over mine, and I was tucked against his front. Not daring to move, I could feel his heart beating steadily against my back.

And that wasn’t all. His hand rested against the curve of my belly, under my tank top. The flesh against flesh seared my skin and had my toes curling under the blanket. I closed my eyes, dragging in a shallow breath as sweet heat rolled over me. There wasn’t a single part of me that wasn’t aware of Jensen. How he held me in his sleep. How his leg was tangled in-between mine, pressing against the softest part of me.

My heart rate kicked up.

There was a fire in my blood, and I’d never felt like this with Gavin or any other boy. This was the spark I’d been missing, the feeling of not getting enough air, of my heart racing just because our bodies were tangled together. It reminded me of the rush that accompanied running.

Lying still was the most sublime torture.

But in those following moments, when my imagination ran wild and I pictured rolling over and kissing and touching and doing so, so much more, I realized something else.

Jensen was also very still.

His chest barely moved against my back, but his heart was beating faster, and his hand . . . his thumb moved in idle, slow circles just below my navel. Then he moved his leg just a fraction of an inch upward, and I sucked in a breath like it was my last.

Holy hot tamale . . .

“You’re not asleep.” Jensen’s voice was deep and thick.

A tight shiver coursed up my spine. “No.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. I expected him to put some space between us, but he didn’t. And I almost wished he would, because now that my senses were hyper-aware, I could feel everything. My heart started pounding even faster as a sharp burst of heat shot through the very center of me.

His chest rose against my back. A heartbeat passed between us and then he shifted.

Suddenly, I was on my back, staring up at Jensen, barely able to make out his features in the darkness of my room. His hand drifted away from my stomach and up my side in a slow slide that pushed all the air out of my lungs in one shaky rush. His hand landed on the pillow next to my head. His arms caged me in, and he lowered his body, stopping when our chests barely touched.

Our gazes locked. Something potent, tangible and infinite passed between us. The muscles in his arms flexed as his upper body came down a notch. He was all around me.

“It’s too early to be up,” he said, his head tilting to the side, lining up our mouths.

I had no idea what time it was and I didn’t care. Nothing outside of this little space we’d created mattered at the moment.

“I was hoping that staying over with you would help you sleep better.”

“I was sleeping perfectly.” Slowly, I lifted my hands. My fingers trembled as I placed them against him. His stomach was hot and hard under the thin shirt he wore.

He jerked, and I started to pull my hands back. “Don’t,” he said as he came down on his elbow. With one hand, he reached down between us, placing his hand over one of my mine. The back of his knuckles grazed where my shirt had ridden up.

“Don’t?” Don’t could mean a lot of things.

There was a pause. “Don’t stop.”


When he removed his hand from mine, I didn’t pull my hands away. I don’t know what made me do what I did next. Maybe it was the early morning hours and the darkness of the room that made everything seem surreal. Or maybe it was because underneath it all, I was comfortable with Jensen.

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