‘Are you tired?’
I shrugged. ‘Might as well try to sleep, otherwise I’ll be a real bitch tomorrow.’
He laughed. ‘You’re honest. I like that.’
‘Thanks?’ I wasn’t sure, but that sounded like a compliment. I looked around at the tiny apartment wondering where I’d sleep. ‘Won’t your girlfriend be mad if I’m sleeping over?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not worried about it.’
I bit my lip to avoid smiling.
He disappeared into his bedroom and I wondered if I was supposed to follow, but before I could decide, he returned with a bundle of blankets and pillows in his arms. He dumped them unceremoniously on the couch. ‘You can take my room. I’ll sleep out here.’
I surveyed the length of him. ‘And how tall are you?’
‘Six-two. Why?’
I made a tsking sound. ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. You will not be sleeping on this couch.’ There’s no way he would comfortably fit.
He laughed softly. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Nonsense. Go to bed. I’ve got this.’ I began unfolding the blankets and arranging them on the couch.
His hands found mine, and he stopped me. ‘You’re the guest. You should take my bed.’ His voice was solemn, sweet.
I couldn’t resist placing my hand on his chest. Yep, just as solid and warm as I expected. ‘I’m not a guest, sweetheart, I’m an annoying neighbor with a bat problem who woke you up in the middle of the night.’
He smirked.
‘Now go to bed.’ I patted his chest.
He held me in his gaze. ‘You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?’
‘Damn straight.’
He laughed out loud. ‘And how do you know I’m not a serial killer?’
‘Yes, because serial killers usually wear oven mitts for intimidation and buy their victims pancakes before tucking them into bed.’ I rolled my eyes for effect.
His mouth twitched in amusement. ‘Valid point.’ He turned to head to his room. ‘Just let me know if you need anything—or if you spot any bats. I’ve got the oven mitts ready.’
A noise from the other room caught our attention. Cohen’s face registered recognition.
He shook his head with a smirk on his face. ‘There’s just one problem.’
I waited, unsure where this was heading. Maybe his girlfriend had decided to come over after all.
‘Bob usually sleeps here.’
Before I had the chance to ask who Bob was, a dog the size of a bear came barreling down the hallway, headed straight for me.
I let out a gasp while Cohen laughed and steered the dog away, stopping him from mauling me. He held the dog’s wiggling body in place and scratched behind his ears. The dog’s tail walloped against my thigh.
‘He tries to sleep in my bed, but I don’t usually let him. He’s a cover hog.’ Cohen smiled.
‘What the hell is he?’ I took a step back so I was out of the firing line of his tail. He was an enormous fluff ball of curly apricot-colored fur.
‘A Labradoodle. Non-shedding.’
‘Oh.’ A what-a-doodle?
Bob leapt onto the couch and flopped himself down onto the blankets I’d just arranged, lying with his head against the armrest as he got into a comfortable position.
Cohen chuckled at the sight of him. ‘Unless you’re a real dog lover and wouldn’t mind cuddling up with this guy, I suggest you come to my room.’
I had no desire to sleep on a couch that doubled as a dog bed, and nodded my consent.
Cohen led the way to his bedroom. It was large and tidy, with king-sized bed in the center. The roof pitched steeply on each side, giving it an intimate feel. He had one small chest of drawers and a single night table that held some loose change and an alarm clock.
His bed was unmade with charcoal gray sheets and a fluffy white down comforter. It looked very inviting.
Cohen studied me for a second. ‘Do you…need anything to wear?’ He looked down at my jeans.
‘Oh. No thanks.’ I remembered I had on my sleeping shorts underneath the jeans, and began removing them.
Cohen dropped his eyes, seemingly uncomfortable with watching me undress. I folded my jeans neatly and laid them on the floor beside the bed. I started to crawl into the bed when Cohen’s hand on my elbow stopped me.
‘The other side, sweetheart.’
Oh. I scooted over to the other side of the bed, nearest the wall.
He yanked his T-shirt off over his head and stripped down to his black boxer briefs. I caught a glimpse of his smooth, tanned skin, just before he crawled in next to me and covered himself with the sheet.
I sensed something had changed between us; the air felt thick and heavy. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know I was taking your side,’ I whispered in the darkness.
‘It’s okay. I’d prefer to sleep closest to the door. That way if anyone breaks in they have to get through me first.’
Aw. It was a strange notion, but I liked his protective instincts. He was a sweet guy. I didn’t usually hang out with many of those. Maybe it had to do with him being a firefighter.
I rolled over on my side and pulled the comforter securely around me, settling in for the night.
The next morning Cohen stood guard while I dashed inside my apartment to grab a change of clothes and my laptop. We didn’t see the bat, but I was glad to have him with me just the same.
He didn’t have class until later, so I thanked him for the previous night, and he headed back upstairs to make coffee, while I began the twenty-minute walk to campus.
Despite only getting a few hours of sleep and overindulging on wine, I felt more well-rested than I usually did. Cohen’s bed was ridiculously comfortable. And I felt safe with him there. I was used to living alone, but that didn’t mean that occasionally I wasn’t woken in the night by an unknown noise and was unable to get back to sleep. And was he an absolute gentleman—staying on his own side and pretty much ignoring me completely. I’d slept like a baby in Cohen’s bed. Which was strange, since I made it a point not to stay over with guys I slept with. I might fall asleep after sex, but I’d always wake in the middle of the night and slip out of bed unnoticed. Maybe that was why I’d been comfortable staying with Cohen, because we hadn’t been intimate. I shrugged the thought away.
I spent the entire day working in the library on my research paper, only stopping for coffee refills and to grab a sandwich from a deli across the street. By six o’clock I was hungry again and in need of a long, hot soak in my jetted tub.
I secured my laptop bag across my chest and set off for the walk home. I checked my phone for messages again, hoping to have an update from my landlord about the bat situation. I was scrolling through text messages when I collided against something solid. I let out a groan and quickly looked up to see who—or what—I’d