52. Claire: Tangled

52. Claire: Tangled
CLAIRE

Though I’d been married and shared a house with James for over a year, I’d never actually slept in a bed with him.

Not really.

So this?

This feels… foreign. And a little dangerous.

Because while I might not have slept beside my husband, I have shared a bed with Nik.

Sort of.

If you count those few chaotic days at the cabin where we fell into each other like drowning people grabbing onto the same piece of wreckage. A blur of mouths and hands and teeth and sweat and sounds I never thought I’d make. But it all feels unreal now. Like it happened to someone else. A fever dream of aching need that I still don’t quite understand.

And back then, I definitely don’t remember this.

Waking up with Nik’s erection pressed hot and heavy against my lower back. Or having his entire body basically draped over mine like a weighted blanket made of muscle and heat and primal male energy. His huge frame over mine blocks out everything around me like he’s instinctively protecting me even in his sleep.

Also: he snores.

A low, steady rumble in his chest that I can feel more than hear. It vibrates against my back in a way that should be annoying but isn’t. It’s oddly comforting.
Grounding.

I try to shift on the mattress—just enough to slide out from under him—but the movement drags my hips back against him, and holy hell.

I suck in a breath, eyes snapping open.

Because yeah, that’s definitely his erection, and it’s still… more than impressive.

I stay frozen for a moment, blinking into the darkness, heart pounding like a drum in my throat. It’s probably just a morning thing, I tell myself. Totally natural.
Not about me. Not intentional.

Except…

Nik’s hand tightens slightly on my hip.

Not a lot. Just the smallest flex of fingers. But it feels deliberate. Possessive. And I swear I feel his breath hitch against the back of my neck.

I press my thighs together instinctively, and gods help me, it doesn’t help. It just makes me more aware of everything—of him. The heat of his body. The weight of his arm around me. The way my body is reacting with all the grace and self-control of a hormone-soaked teenager.

I shouldn’t feel like this.

Not about Nik.

He’s—he’s my friend. My protector. My safe place. I can’t be thinking about how good he feels pressed up behind me. I can’t be wondering what would happen if I pressed back just a little harder.

Except I already am.

And maybe I’m not the only one.

“Nik?” I whisper, testing the waters.

No response.

Just that deep, steady snore.

I tilt my head slightly to glance back at him, and my heart does a little stupid somersault.

He looks so peaceful like this. The tense lines around his eyes are gone, his mouth relaxed, his hand still curled possessively around my waist like even in sleep he’s not willing to let me go.

I should wake him. I should.

But I don’t.

Because if I wake him, I’ll have to face whatever this is—whatever’s building between us that neither of us has been brave enough to name. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

So I stay.

Wrapped up in him. In this moment. In the warmth of his breath against my neck and the weight of his body holding me close like I’m something he means to keep.

I lay there…heart racing, body buzzing, mind tangled in a thousand questions I don’t have the answers to.

I let myself belong to this moment.

Even if it’s borrowed.

Even if it’s dangerous.

Even if I know I won’t be able to pretend it didn’t happen in the morning.

Eventually, I drift off to sleep again.


The next time I wake up, Nik is still in the same position—wrapped around me like a human-sized furnace with a five-o’clock shadow and way too many muscles. His chest is heavy against my back, his arm still slung around my waist, and his breath warm where it hits the curve of my neck.

Unfortunately, my bladder has officially declared a state of emergency.

I try to shift again, slow and careful, but the minute I move my hips I feel him groan low in his throat. The sound vibrates right through my spine.

His hips rock lightly, his nose brushing against my throat lightly, and I freeze as the thick length of him presses against my butt through both our clothes.

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I let out a muffled sound that’s something between a squeak and a moan. Nik’s snoring cuts off immediately.

“Good morning,” I say into the pillow, trying to keep my voice casual and failing miserably as it comes out about an octave too high.

His reaction is instant, rolling off of me and onto the mattress.

“Shit—I’m sorry,” he rumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“It’s fine,” I hurry to assure him, awkwardly untangling myself and rolling out of bed with legs that feel like they’ve forgotten how to function. I can feel the damp heat between my thighs with every step and I swear I can feel his gaze on my back, burning through my shirt, reading every inch of me as I stumble to the bathroom.

I close the door behind me and lean my forehead against the cool wood, groaning softly.

Get it together, Claire.

I splash some cold water on my face, but what I really need is a freezing cold shower. By the time I wash up and come back out, Nik’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it personally offended him. His hair’s a mess, his shirt wrinkled, but the dark circles around his eyes have faded somewhat.

He doesn’t look at me when I come back in.

I clear my throat. “Hey.”

His head lifts, just barely. His eyes are still half-shadowed, unreadable.

“I—um.” I rub the back of my neck awkwardly. “I just wanted to say… about earlier. I know it didn’t mean anything. I mean that kind of thing just happens sometimes, right? So, it’s totally fine. No need to feel weird about it,” I ramble, all the while willing the heated blush from before to not make a reappearance.

There. Easy. No pressure. An out.

Nik’s jaw tightens slightly. His dark gaze finally lifts to mine, and there’s something sharp and unreadable in it.

Finally, he gives a short nod. “Right. Just… instinct.”

His voice is flat, and I can’t tell if he’s relieved or angry or something else entirely. Maybe both.

We stand in silence for a moment.

I swallow hard, hugging my arms over my chest. “You okay?”

Nik exhales through his nose. “Yeah.”

But he’s not. I can see it.

His whole body is tense again, like he’s wound tight under the surface and barely holding it together. That wild, feral energy I saw last night? It’s still there.

Just… banked beneath the surface.