“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I taunted and he barked a laugh, making my gaze drop to his mouth again. He had morning stubble and bed hair. It was my favourite look on him. Effortlessly fucking gorgeous. It was a serious shame he was straight. Well, at least when he was sober. His throat bobbed and I was aware our chests were still pressed together and there was no reason for that now. I still had my hand on the back of his neck and I dropped it, wondering if he’d step away, but he didn’t.
