A/N: Hello, everyone! I've missed you! I'm sorry this took so long, but readjusting to my schedule has been a bit more challenging than I anticipated. Regardless, the new chapter is here! I hope you like it! As always, read, review, and enjoy!
Chapter Eight
The hotel room was small, almost too small for Clarke's liking. They were back, and getting ready for the night. Just one more day and she'd be able to get out of this sufficatingly small space with him. Well, one more day and a car ride. Then she would be home free and she could stop feeling this weird tension in the back of her neck and the pit of her stomach all the time.
Bellamy was brushing his teeth, completely ignorant of the fact that she didn't know how they were going to get to sleep that night. With no couch, they were sleeping in the same bed. She was tempted to suggest putting up a wall of pillows between them, for her own sanity, but she knew he'd tease her mercilessly about not being able to sleep with a guy.
Truth was, she was fairly certain that if she slept with him—even just actually slept—she'd never be able to sleep alone again. And that was a problem, because she didn't currently have anyone who could be on her beck and call to cuddle her until she fell asleep.
But he was so blissfully unaware of the turmoil in her brain. Lucky bastard.
Trying to get her head back into a better place, she started to figure out what she was going to wear for the remainder of the trip. She had her bridesmaid dress for the wedding, her black dress for the rehearsal dinner, and then a few assorted outfits that would last her through the next day and the rest of the drive. But it left her one outfit short if she planned on sleeping in clothing that night. And given that she had spent the day sweating in the clothes she was wearing, she wasn't wearing them to bed too.
So she shifted through and finally figured she could wear the loose white t shirt she was wearing tomorrow and just toss the jeans underneath in the morning. But she should probably check with Bellamy before going to bed pantsless. She approached the bathroom timidly, unsure of how he would react to her request.
"Bellamy?" His eyes flicking up briefly to meet hers in the mirror was her only indication that he was paying attention to her words. "Is it okay with you if I sleep without pants tonight?"
He choked on his toothpaste and pulled his toothbrush from his mouth, sputtering. Okay, so maybe she could have phrased that a little better.
"Relax, Bellamy, I'm not hitting on you. I ran out of clean clothes. I was expecting to be able to use the washing machine at the estate well before this. And it's not like I wouldn't have underwear on." His face drained of color at that. "Okay, you know what? I know you don't really find me attractive. That kiss was reactionary. Spending so much time in a small space with someone, and all that. But I know you're not really interested in me. So why is this an issue?"
He waited a while to speak. She almost thought he wasn't going to answer her, when he bent down and spit the toothpaste from his mouth and rinsed. But then he raised his head and said, "Do you want some pants? I have basketball shorts I'm not planning on wearing."
Not what she was expecting, but her bruised ego and her traitorous hormones reminded her that pants might not actually be a bad idea. Her stubborn pride resisted kowtowing to him, but she figured her pride could take a seat for the night. "Yeah, that would work."
He nodded shortly and pushed past her out into the main room. She wasn't sure whether she should follow him or not, but decided to brush her own teeth and wash her face before she went to sleep. When she returned to the bedroom, a pair of purple shorts laid out on the bed. Bellamy had his back to her as he sorted through the things on the bedside table. He must have sensed her presence, because he said, "Let me know when you're done changing. Take your time."
And he did wait patiently as she changed her shirt and slipped into his shorts. They were very baggy, but the elastic waistband managed to hold them up on her hips. "I'm done," she said softly. He turned and shot her a small smile. She slid under the sheet, but noticed he stayed on top of the sheets and under the comforter. And then he flicked off the light.
She smelled too damn good for his health. She was too close. He had made sure that he was on top of the sheet, so that if his mind went off the rails and he started having a sex dream featuring the woman sharing a bed with him, he wouldn't actually end up humping her. But her nearness was keeping him from sleeping.
He'd been trying to fall asleep for almost forty minutes now, to no avail. She just smelled so sweet, that every time he closed his eyes, her scent wafted into his nose and intensified. He glanced over, noticing her eyes were closed. So he took his time and studied her face. She looked so calm and peaceful in her sleep, like there wasn't a demon that sometimes lived in her body.
"Stop it, you're burning a hole in my head." Her lips moved, but her eyes remained closed.
"Sorry, can't sleep. I just wanted to see if you were having trouble sleeping too."
She sighed. "Actually, I am. I don't know why I can't sleep, but every time I close my eyes, my mind won't shut up."
"What are you thinking about?" He didn't actually expect her to tell him, but he wanted her to know he cared.
"Everything, really." Her eyes flicked open and she turned her head toward him. "How's everything with your house?"
He stiffened. That wasn't exactly a topic he enjoyed discussing. But if she was willing to try and see him in a different light, he wasn't going to turn down that opportunity. "It's hard. I don't have a lot of spare cash right now, what with having everything rebuilt and rebought. I'm actually sleeping on a blow up mattress in my living room right now." He added with a small laugh.
Her brow furrowed. "You don't have a bed?"
"The master bedroom hasn't been fully repaired yet, so no furniture has been replaced, either. Hence the blow up mattress."
"Do you want to stay with me?" Her eyes widened momentarily, as if she herself couldn't believe she'd just offered such a thing. But she had, and she was prideful—and kind—enough not to take it back.
"Sleep on your couch?"
"I have a guest room."
"Why would you do that? Why would you care?"
"Contrary to popular opinion, Bellamy, I don't hate you. And I don't like the thought of anyone I know sleeping on the floor in their living room."
"I have an air mattress."
She waved her hand in dismissal. "Semantics. You're less than a foot from where people's feet go. Stay with me."
He didn't know how long he'd wanted to hear her say those words until she said them. And then he suddenly felt a weight lifted off his chest. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. I wouldn't offer if I wasn't." And he could hear it in her voice, too. Whether she was really invested in his well being or just too stubborn to take back her offer, she meant what she was saying.
"Thank you." He paused, searching her face again. "This getting along thing is pretty nice, huh?"
"It's not so bad." She finally turned to face him. "How about we make a deal?"
"I'm listening."
"Until we get there, we don't fight. Don't get me wrong, I'm not gonna stop being snarky. But I mean we stop trading insults and fighting. We just get along and be nice to each other, until we get to the wedding."
He contemplated it for a moment. A stupid, hopeful part of him had hoped she was going to make some kind of friends with benefits pact, but this seemed like a good step towards being actual friends. And he would take that. "Sounds good to me."
"Okay, good." And with that, she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes once more.
Why was she so warm? Clarke woke up, overheated. She didn't usually overheat in her sleep, but she was most definitely too hot. As she came to her senses, she realized that she was squished up against something solid and strong. And warm, which probably explained her temperature predicament.
And it didn't take her long after that to realize that that strong, solid thing was Bellamy's body, and she was pressed all against the length of it. Her pulse quickened as she took in the sensation. After all, she would probable never feel this again. She glanced down and realized she must have kicked the sheet down to the end of the bed, hooked a leg around his hips, and placed her head into the curve of his shoulder.
She tried to extract herself from his grip without waking him up. After all, they had agreed to be nice, and she didn't think she'd be able to do that if she hadn't had her coffee. But as she gently began twisting her way out of his arm—which had somehow snuck under her back in the middle of the night—he slid it down her back and grasped her ass in a firm grip. He hauled her closer, so close that her nose brushed the side of his neck. Why did he smell this good after a full night of sleep?
And of course, she couldn't ignore the massive hand currently caressing her ass. Those damn hormones were more than happy to stay this way all morning…and they would be even more happy if she crawled on top of him so his grasp on her bottom could rock the center of her against his erection. The thought of having this man between her legs sent a gush of hot liquid heading toward the area.
Naturally, he chose that moment to roll towards her and open his eyes. It took him another few seconds before he realized the position they were in. And when he did, a massive grin split his ridiculously handsome face. "Nice ass, Princess."
She shot him a glare as she shoved out of his arms, not realizing that he had a grip on her shorts. Or rather, his shorts. And as she moved away, and he held the shorts in place, they began to slip off her hips. Not enough to leave her pantsless, but her bright pink lacy underwear was definitely on display. Unsure of what to do next, she glanced at him. And found his gaze pinned on her underwear. "C'mon, Bellamy, they're just panties. I know for a fact you've seen them before."
"I've never seen them on you." She thought his voice sounded a little more hoarse than usual, but brushed that off as sleepiness. He was definitely not hitting on her.
"Let's just get ready for the day." She started to push herself up and off the bed, but he snagged her hand and tugged her closer.
"Not yet." He held one hand captive, then used the other to tug her body closer.
"What are you doing?"
"Being nice." That definitely didn't feel like what was happening, but she wasn't able to move herself away from him. He was like a damn magnet.
"What are you being nice about?"
"Patience, Princess. I was about to pay you a compliment." The hand that had been at her waist brushed up to her face. He used it to gently tip her face to the side, then skimmed her nose along the exposed column of her neck. "You smell so sweet. And it's not perfume, because you showered before we went to bed. This is all you, and it's so sweet."
She had lost the ability to use her lungs. Air was not going in or out of them. And his eyes held her in place as she finally took a shuddering breath of air. "Th-thank you."
He tilted his lips in a smile. "You're welcome." He planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "Do you want another one?"
He probably meant another compliment, but her mind was stuck on how his lips felt against her cheek. She wanted another kiss. But that was a monumentally bad idea. So with much effort, she finally pushed him back. "No. I need to get coffee." And she stood up, walked away from the bed. Even though what she really wanted was to climb back in and stay forever with him.
