Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Going to Bed Together

He's a person in your care! Focus! It's not like you haven't seen his muscular torso and his thick chest hair and his stomach before.

She knew he wouldn't be able to bend, so she threw the towel over his head.

"Try to dry your hair a bit. I can't reach it," she said, and he grabbed it with his right and rubbed his mane. "Now, let's get you to the bedroom like that," she said, "and I'll help you get dressed."

On the stairs he kept pausing, and she could see he was at the end of his strength. He heavily sat down on his bed, and she took the towel out of his hand and gently scrunched his hair, wiped his beard, and patted the healthy side of his upper body.

"Alright, I can help you with your tee," she said and then looked him over with concern. "To be honest, if you feel comfortable with it, I'd just sleep naked if I were you. You're crashing and–"

"Yeah, it's fine," he said bleakly.

He started shifting, and Viola lifted a duvet. He awkwardly rolled under it, and then she pushed her hand under it and pulled the wet towel out.

"Will you still lie down with me? I know, I'm starkers, but–" he muttered, his eyes closing. "Please, stay–"

"I'll go take a quick shower, alright?" she said.

He hummed from under the duvet. Viola picked up the wet towels and went back to the bathroom. After a long hot shower she stepped out of the enclosure and wrapped in one of towel-sheets from a large woven basket. The sheet was luxuriously soft and thick. He always had a thing for good towels, she remembered. She looked down at her clothes. She could wash her jeans in his washing machine, and probably her socks and the thermoshirt. But her jumper, her bra, and her knickers were hand wash only. She rinsed her knickers and her bra in his sink with his shower gel, and hung them to dry on an electric towel rack. 

When she returned to his bedroom, clutching the tightly wrapped towel sheet to her chest, she saw that he was sleeping. She stuck her nose into his wardrobe. The solution to her predicament was quite clear - she'd done it so many times all those years ago! - but she hesitated. She pulled out a soft long-sleeved tee out of one of the drawers, and then minced to the basket with clean laundry. C'mon, Viola, you know they'll fit. She threw another cautious look at him, but he was definitely in deep slumber. She sat on the edge of the bed, exhaled, and pushed her feet into the pants of his boxer briefs. They made excellent shorts for her, just as she'd known they would. She then quickly dressed in his shirt, lifted a corner of his duvet, and slid into the cloud of his warmth. She curled into his right side, and he snuffled in his sleep - and the fingers of his right hand twitched on the sheet and found hers.

Viola closed her eyes. Sleep didn't come, just some sort of lethargy rolled heavily over her body. Rhys' hot dry hand was wrapped around hers, and she lay in his bed counting her breaths.

A memory came - of sleeping in the same bed as Rhys for the first time. It had been just a fortnight after they'd started dating, in the flat she'd been renting with her three friends. They'd all gone back to their families for Christmas, and she'd lied to her parents that she'd had some lab work to finish, which had been so unlike her - and she'd stayed for extra two nights, and he'd come over. The first evening, they hadn't even finished their dinner. They'd made love for five hours straight, and she didn't remember how they'd fallen asleep. They'd spent the next day in bed, and by the nightfall they'd been so exhausted that they'd ordered take-away despite both of them being utterly broke. He'd started nodding off while still chewing that pizza, and suddenly, she'd found herself sharing a bed with a man. She'd been lying near him, her fist tucked under her cheek, watching his relaxed face.