Unexpectedly Expecting || BWWM

26 Weeks

He hesitated, his hand brushing against mine briefly before he settled back again. "Fine. As long as your mom's okay with it."

"She's the one who offered," I mumbled, suddenly hyperaware of how close we were.

I could feel his warmth radiating off him, his arm draped casually along the back of the couch. His presence was steady, grounding in a way I didn't expect. When I turned my head, my eyes caught on the sharp line of his jaw, the faint stubble along his chin, and the way his broad shoulders seemed to make the couch shrink.

"I'll stay," he said quietly, breaking the silence.

My heart gave a small, traitorous flutter as he shifted, his arm brushing mine. It wasn't fair how easily he unsettled me.

I stood abruptly to put some space between us. "Actually, you should stay in the guest room. It's more comfortable, and I'll be in there, too."

His brows lifted in surprise, and for a moment, I thought he'd say no.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, feeling heat crawl up my neck. "I don't bite, Dean."

That earned me a small chuckle, and he stood slowly, towering over me in a way that made my pulse quicken.

As we walked up the stairs, the silence between us felt heavier, charged with something I couldn't quite name. I tried to focus on my breathing, on the sound of our footsteps against the wooden floors, but the closer we got to the guest room, the more aware I became of Dean beside me.

When we finally reached the guest room, I stepped inside first, flipping on the small lamp by the bedside table. The warm light spilled across the room, highlighting the neutral tones and cozy decor my mom had carefully curated.

I turned to face Dean, expecting him to hover in the doorway like he usually did when he felt out of place. Instead, he followed me in, his broad frame filling the small space.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant as he glanced around.

"I'm sure," I replied, leaning against the bedpost. "It's just one night, and I'd rather not wake up to a call saying you fell asleep at the wheel."

He didn't argue, just nodded and reached up to loosen his tie. My eyes followed the movement, the graceful way his fingers worked the knot loose before pulling the fabric free.

"I should get comfortable," he murmured almost to himself, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

My throat went dry as he shrugged out of the crisp white fabric, revealing the snug black tank top he wore underneath. The soft cotton clung to his frame, outlining the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders.

I forced myself to look away, my cheeks burning. Get it together, Ivory.

"Sorry," he said, misinterpreting my reaction. "I'll put the shirt back on if it's—"

"It's fine," I cut in quickly, my voice higher than I intended. "You're fine."

Dean's lips twitched into a small, knowing smirk, and I realized too late how my words had sounded.

"I mean, it's late, and you should be comfortable," I added in a rush, waving a hand toward the bed as if that would erase my flustered tone.

He chuckled softly, setting his folded shirt on the armchair in the corner. "I usually sleep butt naked but I guess this will do."

I rolled my eyes letting out a snort, trying to focus on arranging the extra pillows on the bed. But it was impossible to ignore him. He moved around the room with an ease I hadn't seen before, the tension that usually sat heavy on his shoulders nowhere to be found.