Just a touch away, p.12
Just a Touch Away, page 12
Hannah whirled around and stomped to Winter’s bedroom, the only other place Winter could be if she was home. She repeated the sharp rap on the door, then threw it open.
Aha! There she was!
And she was naked. Okay, half-naked.
A pair of black slacks sat low on Winter’s slim hips. The thin, black leather belt threaded through its loops dangled open, and she wasn’t wearing a shirt—or a bra. Her fair skin glowed under the bedroom lights. Hannah’s gaze trailed up Winter’s flat belly until it reached the towel hanging around her bare shoulders, catching drops of water dripping down from her wet hair. It was a fairly small towel; its ends barely covered Winter’s nipples, exposing the lower curve of her small breasts.
A new wave of heat swept through Hannah’s body, and this time, it had nothing to do with anger. For a moment, she even forgot what she’d been angry about.
Then Winter crossed her arms over her bare breasts—more in an indignant pose than trying to cover herself—and glared at her. “Seen enough, or would you like to take a picture?”
“W-what? No, I-I…” Crap, she was staring! Belatedly, Hannah whirled around and covered her eyes with her forearm. Her cheeks burned.
The sound of bare feet on the hardwood floor drifted across the room, heading toward the dresser, which was right next to the door, where Hannah stood frozen. A drawer slammed shut. With a plop, something—probably the towel—landed on the floor.
Hannah swallowed. Was her inability to form mental images a blessing or a curse right now?
“Why the hell did you burst into my room as if the building is on fire?” Winter’s frosty voice came from only a few feet away.
“Um, I was…” What had she been doing? Oh, yeah. The email. Hannah risked a peek over her shoulder to see if Winter was now fully dressed. She wanted to discuss this face-to-face.
Winter had put on a white T-shirt and stood with her hands on her hips, which stretched the cotton over her breasts.
Hannah gritted her teeth. She would not, under any circumstances, let the fact that Winter wasn’t wearing a bra distract her from this conversation! She whirled around to fully face her. “You booked a cuddle session.”
“Yes, I did.” Winter’s voice was cool and impassive. She wasn’t even trying to deny or explain it!
“If this is supposed to be a prank, I don’t find it funny at all. My job is not a joke!” With every word, her self-righteous anger grew until it had replaced that awestruck feeling.
“Does this look like I’m laughing?” Winter pointed at her unsmiling face, her lips compressed into a tight line.
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
Winter shifted her weight on her bare feet. “Can’t I just book a session to see for myself what exactly it is you’re doing?”
“You don’t see me going to your website to book a marketing consultation with you!”
“Maybe you should,” Winter muttered.
A bright-red ball of anger simmered inside of her. “Whoa! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Winter sighed. “Look. I’m not trying to prank you or poke fun at your job. I’m merely trying to book a cuddle session, same as all of your clients.”
“Yeah, but my other clients didn’t give me shit about what I do for a living! You seriously want me to believe that you’d like to cuddle with me after all that?”
The white cotton stretched again as Winter shrugged. “You were the one who said people change.”
“And you were the one who insisted they don’t.”
They stared at each other in a silent standoff, and Hannah wondered how much of the remaining seventy-nine days they would spend doing that. It might add up to a couple of hours by the time they had fulfilled the conditions of the trust.
The doorbell made Hannah jump. She tore her gaze away from Winter’s frosty blue eyes. It was probably her friends, coming to pick her up. “I have to go. But don’t think we are finished with this discussion!” She strode out without giving Winter a chance to have the last word.
* * *
As it turned out, a pint of Guinness had a soothing effect on Hannah. She took another sip, then dipped a piece of her beer-battered fish into the tartar sauce and popped it into her mouth. While she chewed the crispy morsel, she went back over the conversation with Winter for the fifteenth time.
She now believed Winter had told her the truth when she’d insisted it wasn’t a prank. Her usually ultra-serious roommate wasn’t the type for silly jokes like that. But if it wasn’t a prank, why had Winter booked a session? Had something changed for Winter, as she had indicated? After giving Hannah her approval or at least her non-disapproval, had she reverted back to being skeptical about professional cuddling and wanted to check it out herself to make sure nothing shady was going on in the den?
Hannah’s stomach churned, and she wasn’t sure if it was the fish and chips or that she felt bad for questioning Winter’s motivation. Maybe she was doing Winter an injustice, and her temporary roommate really was ready to experience the power of platonic touch.
Valentina slid closer to her in the booth and bumped her with an elbow. “Hey, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” Hannah said because she didn’t want to spoil the relaxed atmosphere. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been so distracted all evening that you didn’t even notice the wannabe Irish waitress is wearing a kilt.”
The waitress was wearing a kilt? Hannah looked around but couldn’t spot her. “Aren’t kilts a Scottish thing?”
“Never mind the kilt.” Valentina stole a fry from Hannah’s plate and waved it around impatiently. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
Max and Tammy leaned forward on the other side of the table so they wouldn’t miss anything over the background noise of music, conversations, and a soccer game on TV.
Hannah took her time wiping her hands on a paper napkin, one finger at a time. “Winter wants to cuddle with me.” Her heart thumped against her ribs. Somehow, that sounded different…more intimate than how she had phrased it so far. “I mean, she booked a session through the website.”
“Winter?” Max spluttered beer down his chin. “You mean Queen Frostbite, sovereign ruler of prickly plants and abrasive doormats?”
Hannah didn’t laugh. The momentary impulse to defend Winter surprised her, but she smothered it. “The one and only.”
“I thought she wasn’t a fan of professional cuddling?” Tammy asked. “Last thing I heard, she all but banned you from working as a cuddler while you’re sharing an apartment.”
“She changed her mind when she met one of my clients.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Valentina asked. “If she has a more positive attitude toward cuddling and is even willing to try it, that’s great, right? That’s exactly what we were talking about a while ago. Why are you so upset about it?”
The faux leather of the booth squeaked as Hannah squirmed. “I’m not upset. I just—”
“Ooh! I get it now.” Valentina elbowed her teasingly. “You don’t want to sign the contract that says you’ll have to keep your hands off that hot roomie of yours!”
“No! That’s not it. Not at all.” So what if the sight of Winter’s half-naked body had momentarily derailed her train of thought? That didn’t mean she wanted to touch that smooth skin or kiss that flat belly. Absolutely not.
“What is it, then?” Tammy nudged her plate of Scotch eggs across the table as if to bribe her into talking.
Hannah picked up one half of an egg and dipped it into the Guinness mustard, then took a bite. The crispy deep-fried bread crumbs provided an interesting contrast to the sausage meat and hard-boiled egg that formed the inner layers. She chewed slowly while she thought about how to explain. “Winter never left any doubt that she would rather stick her hand down the garbage disposal than cuddle. I can’t help wondering what’s behind that sudden change of heart.”
Tammy pulled the plate back to her side of the table. “Have you asked her?”
“Yeah. She said she wants to see for herself what exactly it is I’m doing in the den.”
Valentina swallowed her last forkful of bangers and mash. “And maybe that’s really all she wants. Why not take her at face value until proven otherwise? It’s what you do for your other clients.”
Unease still clung to Hannah like a burr she couldn’t shake. Winter and she had finally achieved a fragile peace. Cuddling with her could endanger that. But Valentina was right. Maybe she should give Winter the benefit of the doubt. If all went well, Winter’s hesitant non-disapproval might turn into enthusiastic approval for the services she offered.
She also couldn’t help thinking that Winter had to be starved for touch. As far as Hannah knew, Brooke had been Winter’s only visitor since they had moved into the apartment two weeks ago, and from what she had seen of their interaction, she doubted Winter had gotten even the world’s shortest hug from her half sister.
Maybe it would turn out she resembled her father in this regard too and would learn to enjoy cuddling.
Right. And maybe I’ll win the lottery.
But then again, she kind of had won the lottery when she had inherited half of a multi-million-dollar building, hadn’t she?
She nodded at her friends, who were all watching her expectantly. “You’re right. I’ll let her book a session.”
Valentina raised her arms over her head in a one-person wave, which Max and Tammy immediately picked up. “Maravilha! Let’s celebrate with a round of Irish Mules!”
“You just want to watch someone from the bar staff climb up that library-style ladder to reach the whiskey on the top shelf—especially if they are wearing a kilt.” Tammy pointed to the mirrored shelf behind the bar, stocked with bottles of liquor from the floor to the high ceiling. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think they use the top-shelf stuff for the Irish Mules.”
Valentina flashed an unrepentant grin. “Well, a girl can dream. I’ve always wanted to know what’s worn under a kilt.”
Hannah did her best to laugh along with her friends, but her thoughts were already back at the apartment. Holy hell. She would be cuddling with Winter!
* * *
For once, Winter had gone to bed early, but sleep had stubbornly refused to come. She had tossed and turned for an hour while bits of her earlier conversation with Hannah flashed through her mind…if you could even call it a conversation.
It had been more like a shouting match, interspersed with lots of glaring and staring.
Her skin still tingled any time she thought about the way Hannah’s gaze had slid up her bare belly and lingered on her breasts before she had whirled around with flushed cheeks. She hadn’t just imagined that, had she?
That train of thought wasn’t conducive to sleep. Now she was wide-awake, even though it was nearly midnight. Grumbling, she tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed. Maybe a glass of water would help. She padded across the hall to the kitchen. By now, she was familiar with the layout of the apartment, so she didn’t bother to turn on the light, knowing it would wake her up even further.
The faint glow of a streetlamp outside was enough for her to open the cabinet, find a glass, and fill it from the tap. She took her time as she leaned against the counter and sipped cold water.
Just as she put her empty glass into the dishwasher and was about to head back to bed, a key jangled in the lock, and the front door opened. Footsteps came down the hall, but no light flared on—after their earlier fight, Hannah probably wanted to escape to her room without running into Winter or disturbing her sleep. Hannah’s shadowy form rounded the corner and headed toward her bedroom, which faced the open kitchen.
Should she let Hannah sneak into her room without saying anything? Winter considered it for a moment, but if Hannah looked to the left and made her out in the nearly dark kitchen, she would give her a heart attack. The light switch was several steps away, so Winter loudly cleared her throat. “Hey.”
Something—maybe Hannah’s messenger bag—crashed to the floor. “Winter! You scared the crap out of me!” She blew out a shaky breath and took a moment to pick up her bag and compose herself before she came closer. “What on earth are you doing lurking in the dark?”
“Just getting a glass of water,” Winter said.
She expected the light to flare on any moment, but Hannah hesitated with her hand over the light switch and then peered at Winter as if trying to make out the details of her form in the faint light of the streetlamp outside.
“Are you trying to find out if I’m fully dressed before you turn on the light?” Winter couldn’t keep the amusement from her tone. Hannah might be frustrating in so many ways, but she was also pretty damn cute.
“No, of course not,” Hannah said a little too fast. Then she added, “Are you?”
Winter walked over and reached out to flip the light switch. Her hand brushed Hannah’s. She quickly pulled back but could still feel that accidental touch long after it ended.
When the light flared on, they stood only inches apart.
As soon as her eyes had adjusted to the brightness, Winter’s gaze roamed over Hannah. She hadn’t paid much attention to what she was wearing during their earlier confrontation, but now she couldn’t help noticing how different Hannah looked compared to her usual loungewear style. For once, Winter was the one in pajama bottoms and a casual T-shirt, while Hannah was wearing a pair of black jeans that clung to her curves and a top with shoulder buttons that drew Winter’s attention.
It’s just jeans. Christ. Get yourself together.
“What?” Hannah glanced down at her top. “Did I manage to get tartar sauce all over myself?”
“You’re fine,” Winter said gruffly. “I’m just not used to seeing you in anything other than your cuddle outfits.”
“Ah.” Hannah trailed her hands down the denim covering her thighs. It was a self-conscious gesture, but somehow, it was much too sexy for Winter’s liking.
Silence stretched between them for a few heartbeats.
“Um, listen,” Hannah finally said. “I’ve been thinking. Do you still want to cuddle with me?”
The glass of water suddenly sat like a bucket of motor oil in Winter’s stomach. Truthfully, if she had met her in a bar, she wouldn’t have minded exploring that lush body for an hour, but that wasn’t what Hannah was offering. The only part of her body Hannah would make wet were her palms—they were damp right now, just at the thought of letting Hannah spoon her.
Nonsense. She curled her fingers into loose fists. She wasn’t scared of a little cuddling, merely…uneasy. No way would she let Brooke—or Hannah, for that matter—know, though. It might not be the most relaxing experience for her, but she would make it through that sixty-minute session. “Yeah, sure,” she said as casually as possible.
Hannah studied her. “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Wordlessly, Hannah pointed at Winter’s hands, which still formed fists.
Damn. Winter stretched out her fingers and glowered at her. “I’m just warming them up. They got cold. Holding the water glass. And yes, I’m sure.”
“If you would rather cuddle with someone else, I can recommend—”
“I’m sure.” Winter struggled not to raise her voice. How often did she have to say it? “I want to cuddle with you, not Valentina or Tammy or Max.”
Hannah cocked her head. “You remember my friends’ names?”
Winter shrugged, again trying for casual. She didn’t want Hannah to think she had made an effort to remember their names. “I’m good with names. It helps when you’re in marketing. So, when will we do it?” Shit. That sounded all wrong when talking about a platonic service, didn’t it?
A short laugh burst out of Hannah.
Winter squinted at her. Was she just imagining it, or did the thought of cuddling with her make Hannah nervous too? Nah. That couldn’t be. After all, Hannah made a living cuddling and was used to snuggling up to all kinds of people. This was no big deal for her.
Hannah wrapped her hands around the strap of her messenger bag as if she needed something to hold on to. “I usually schedule a fifteen-minute phone or video call with new clients before the first session to go over the rules and talk about what they are looking for. We could sit down together tomorrow after work and—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Winter said. “I’ve read the code of conduct on the website, and I don’t have any specific requests or expectations, so there’s really nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, there’s actually a lot to—”
“Just give me a time for the cuddle session.” Winter stopped herself from adding and let’s get this over with at the last second.
Hannah hesitated for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she pulled her phone from the messenger bag and flicked through her calendar app. “How about tomorrow? I’m free any time after four.”
Tomorrow. Even though Winter had downed a glass of water only a minute ago, her throat felt dry. But at least that meant it would be over and done with this weekend. “Four o’clock sounds fine.” She squared her shoulders, nodded at Hannah, and walked past her toward her room. Halfway there, she remembered that Brooke was waiting for a written confirmation and whirled back around. “Oh, can you email me a confirmation? I prefer to have things in writing.”
“Sure. No problem.”
Winter stepped into her bedroom, closed the door, and dropped down heavily onto her bed. T-minus sixteen hours until she would cuddle up to Hannah. Oh shit.
Chapter 12
The Internet had taught Winter so many things, but when she googled How to prepare for a cuddle session, it totally failed her. Other than the obvious—like practicing good personal hygiene—she hadn’t found much that applied to her situation. Apparently, there weren’t many people who paid their roommates for cuddles, so no one had ever blogged about it.
After half an hour of fruitless searching, she gave up. Preparation wasn’t necessary anyway, she told herself. Snuggling was just lying there for an hour, trying to keep your cuddle buddy’s hair out of your face and your limbs from falling asleep, right?
