Blackout ✓

33 | make a toast

I WOKE UP MUCH EARLIER than Jamie and watched him sleep.

Call me a creep, I didn't care; I took great delight in being the one he woke up to in the morning. Back when we'd abided by the contract, I hadn't cherished these moments enough. Hadn't noticed how Jamie's eyelids fluttered in his REM cycle and the red tracks on his left cheek, which he'd crushed into my pillow. Hadn't appreciated the utter peace in the room, like a lull in the crashing of life's endless waves.

Then his eyes creaked themselves open, adjusting to the shadowy lightness of the room—the blinds were still down. His confusion melted into a grin when he saw me.

"Morning."

Jamie probably slept so well because last night tuckered him out. After the first round of sex, he'd relayed all my drunken adventures, then we washed up and fell asleep until two a.m. at which point his cock awoke and demanded more action.

Good thing it was a Saturday, and we had no obligations to the world. We could sleep in for as long as we liked.

"Good morning," Jamie replied huskily, inching forward to kiss my forehead.

"Usually, I try to keep my new relationships on the down-low," I began airily, "But I think everyone knows by now."

The pitfalls of having twins living on the same floor? There could be no secrets. If Jake hadn't taken his brother's absence from their room as a telling sign of where Jamie had slept last night, then either Krista or Riley would have figured out why certain noises were emerging from my bedroom—and why I had locked my door, which I never usually did.

Therefore, as soon as we got dressed and visited the common room, I expected a barrage of questions and attention.

Jamie groaned and covered his eyes with his palm. "Jake'll be a good sport about it, though. He's been bragging about being mature and settled in a relationship for too long."

"Mm," I agreed, "Whereas you're immature and in a relationship. I see. You should really stick that to him."

Jamie barked a laugh, flipping the duvet off of his bare torso. He folded one arm under his head, and with the other, pulled me closer against his chest.

"You know what?" he asked cheekily. "I've held back for practically two years because I really wanted you to like me. But now—"

"Now what?"

"Now I can roast you back."

"You haven't been doing that already?" I sniped. I couldn't list the times we'd bickered and fought over the years—about football, about my party habits, about my nerdiness for organic chemistry.

"Oh, baby," he smirked. "That was nothing. I'm the youngest of three brothers who showed affection through light bullying. I've got roasts for days."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the self-importance scrawled across his features. "Do your worst."

Jamie grinned as he swung his legs out of bed, dragging a few more kisses from me. "Noted."

By the time Jamie and I dressed and departed for breakfast, I was half hoping that our friends had all coincidentally made plans for the weekend. Maybe Riley was visiting her family in Carsonville, or Krista was having brunch, or Jake was at the gym. It just seemed awkward after months and months of denying any feelings for Jamie to swerve suddenly; "Oh, yeah. I kind of love him now. Oops."

How flakey.

But as luck would have it, all three were in the common room. And Sophie. And Quentin.

Joy.