For the Love of Donuts

25. Definitely Not Soft And Fluffy

Skye

Where the heck am I?

I blink a couple of times to refocus my groggy vision, and that’s when I realize I’m still in Dria and Trey’s living room. Why is the TV asking if I want to watch another episode? How long have I been asleep? What time is it?

I start to sit up so I can get my phone out of my pocket, but something is keeping me in place. “Something” as in Tatum’s arm. His arm is around my shoulders.

Wait, am I leaning against him?

Oh my gosh, I am!

My cheek is literally pressed to his chest right now!

Did I mistake him for a pillow? HOW?

There’s nothing soft and fluffy about Tatum’s chest!

It’s solid, and firm, and…wet?

Stop.

Did I drool on his shirt?

I lift my head just enough to look down and confirm that yes , I did drool on him.

Lovely.

Did he fall asleep too?

I whisper his name, but get no response, so I lean back and study his face for any signs of life. Nope, nothing.

His eyes are closed. His eyebrows are creased. And his full lips are pursed ever so slightly.

My gaze shouldn’t be lingering on his mouth while he’s sleeping—because that’s creepy—but his comment from earlier floats through my mind at the same time.

“If you ever decide we should kiss again, just in case, you let me know .”

What would it be like if we did kiss again?

I’m scared to find out.

But a second kiss could also be the key to understanding how I feel about Tatum, once and for all.

Or it could make things more complicated .

Either way, I really think another kiss needs to happen, just to make sure.

Impulse takes over, and I tap Tatum’s chest while whispering his name again.

He stirs a little before making some kind of mumbling sound, but he still doesn’t wake up.

“Come on, Tatester,” I whine, poking his side, “we need to talk!”

His eyes shoot open as he exhales a shuddery breath, and then he looks down at me in confusion. “Skye? What’s up? How long were we asleep?”

“I don’t know; I just woke up a few minutes ago.” I proceed to sit up so I can see him better. “Tatum, I’ve decided.”

He rubs the side of his face with a yawn. “Decided what?”

“I’ve decided that we should kiss again.”

“You—huh?” He blinks at me. “What do you mean? Like right now?”

Right now? After we ate pizza and fell asleep?

No freaking way! I don’t know about his breath, but I know mine must be ripe.

“Not right now,” I say, trying not to stare at the slobber spot on his shirt. “It should be soon though.”

That way I won’t have as much time to change my mind.

His face becomes serious as he traces the curve of my cheek with his index finger, causing a shiver to creep down my spine, and he starts to say something when Dria’s voice suddenly fills the room. “Oh, you guys woke up!”

She comes out of the kitchen just as Tatum’s hand drops from my face. “I thought y’all were going to stay passed out until morning.”

“What time is it?” we ask her in unison.

“Almost eleven,” she drawls, taking a sip from her Central Perk mug. “Trey and I got home around ten thirty.”

Dang, so we were asleep for almost an hour and a half? That’s wild.

“I’ll be right back,” Tatum says as he stands up with another yawn. “I’m just gonna use the restroom really quick.”

“Well, you two looked awfully cozy,” Dria muses once Tatum is out of earshot. “Is there something I should knowwwww?”

“Uh…” I trail off as she sits where Tatum was sitting. “I guess so? Tatum told me earlier at his house that he likes me— romantically —and I told him that I might feel the same way, but I’m not sure.”

She gasps and smacks my arm, causing her to almost spill her drink. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me anything before Trey and I left! That’s a pretty big deal, honey.”

“It’s weird though,” I huff, playing with the ends of my hair. “Tatum seems so chill with the possibility of us being more than friends, but what if it doesn’t turn out good, ya know? Neither of us have had a lot of luck in the romance department.”

“It’s not about luck.” She rolls her eyes at me. “It’s about being with the right person. Did you ever think that maybe dating other people never worked out for you guys because there’s a chance the two of you are supposed to be together instead?”

I bite my lip as her words sink in. “Do you really think so?”

“There’s only one way to find out, girlie. And if the possibility of being more than friends is still too scary for you, just think of this whole fake relationship thing as practice.”

She takes another sip from her mug, looking a lot like that old Kermit meme, and I find myself considering her suggestion. I guess it would make sense.

I mean, we’re already acting as a couple, so maybe I could lean into that a little bit more?

“All right, Carson,” Tatum says, coming back into the living room, “we should probably head out. I don’t want it to be super late when you drive home from my place.”

Dria points to his shirt. “Did you spill water on yourself?”

I glare at her, but of course she doesn’t notice.

Tatum looks utterly lost as he examines the wet spot on his shirt, so I go ahead and turn myself in, even though it’s embarrassing. “No, it’s because I accidentally drooled on him while I was asleep.” I offer Tate an apologetic wince. “Sorry, dude.”

“Not you being a leaky faucet, Skye.” Dria gives me a look of disapproval before turning her attention to Tatum again. “I’ll get you one of Trey’s shirts, I’m pretty sure you guys are the same size.”

“Oh, Dria, you don’t have to do that,” Tatum says as she starts walking toward their room. “I’m okay! Really!”

“Too late!” she whisper-shouts back. “Go ahead and take that one off!”

Tatum’s eyes cut to me, and I try to seem composed at the idea of him taking his shirt off.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw him shirtless. Despite being Floridians, we don’t usually make a lot of beach or poolside visits. And I can’t think of another scenario where he’d be shirtless in front of me.

There isn’t another scenario where he would be shirtless in front of me.

Until now.

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “I can just change shirts over there.”

Over there.

In the hallway.

Where I won’t be able to see him without a shirt on.

“I’ve seen you shirtless before.”

Um, why did I say that?

It’s the truth, but still.

“You have,” he agrees with a nod, “but things are different now.”

Right. Things are different now. And yet…

“I’m okay with it.” I awkwardly motion to him. “I mean, ya know, if you are.”

Even with the dim lighting in here, I can see the way his eyes darken, and it feels odd to watch him as he grabs the hem of his shirt. As he pulls the fabric upward. But I can’t look away.

I don’t want to look away.

“Whoa,” I breathe out once his shirt is completely off.

Definitely not soft and fluffy.

Tatum

Maybe I should be uncomfortable with Skye staring at my half-naked body, but I’m not. I like that she likes what she’s seeing. I work hard to keep everything toned.

She’s standing up now, and she gives me a hesitant look. “Can I—”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t even have to say it. I know what she’s asking. She wants to touch me. And I’d be a fricking liar if I said I didn’t want her to.

“A-are you sure?” She takes another step closer. “You don’t think it’d be weird?”

“I’m sure.” My voice is husky as I step toward her and eliminate the last bit of space between us. “You can touch me, Skye. It’s okay.”

I don’t want it to seem like I’m pushing myself on her, but I also need her to know that she’s safe with me, and if—

Everything comes to a screeching halt when Skye’s fingertips glide over the lines and ridges of my bare torso, and I clench my teeth to keep myself from groaning because her touch feels too good.

How does it feel so good ?

My eyes start to roll back as one of her hands moves up to my chest, and she makes a little sound of surprise. “Tate, your heart is racing like crazy.”

“Mmhmm,” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers, “it’s because of you.”

Her breath catches before she runs her hands over my abs again. “Is it terrible that I don’t feel as bad now for drooling on you?”

I chuckle lightly. “Well, is it terrible that I didn’t feel so bad when you spilled tea on yourself, because you ended up wearing my shirt?”

Her eyes get huge as she pulls back just enough to look at my face. “You liked that I wore your shirt?”

“Liked is an understatement, Pink Stuff.”

A certain level of satisfaction hits me when her cheeks become flushed from my reply. “I still have it. Your shirt?”

“I know.”

“I guess I should probably give it back to you, huh?”

“Only if you don’t want to keep it.”

But I don’t get a response from her, because that’s when Dria comes back into the living room with a white T-shirt in hand. “I got a new shirt! Sorry it took me so long—Trey was telling me some crazy fan theories he found online about the movie we saw tonight.”

Skye’s already jumped several feet away from me, and even though I’m aching to draw her close again, I force myself to take the offered shirt instead. “Thanks, Dria. I appreciate it.”

“No prob!”

I put the T-shirt on, noting the hint of disappointment on Skye’s face, and I resist the urge to smirk. This girl is going to give me an unhealthy ego.

“It’s a little snug on you,” Dria observes, looking me over, “but it’s better than wearing the spit-drenched one. Am I right?”

Skye cusses at her. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“Says the person who wasn’t the spit victim!” Dria retorts, putting a hand up. “Anyway, I love you guys, but it’s past my bedtime. And Trey’s. So, I have to kick y’all out.”

She and Skye exchange a quick hug as I grab my shirt and turn the TV off, then we’re gently herded out of the house. Dria tells us good night , but she doesn’t close the front door without giving me a sly look of approval first. I had my suspicions that she purposefully wanted me to be shirtless in front of Skye, but now I’m convinced.

Dria is sneaky as heck.

“I’ll go ahead and drive this time,” Skye says as we walk toward her car, “that way I don’t fall asleep again until I’m home.”

I wrangle her keys out of my pocket and flash her a teasing grin. “Should we listen to a little rock music ? Just to help you stay more awake?”

She scoffs at me. “You wish.”

No, what I really wish is that I knew how “soon” our next kiss is going to be. I won’t rush her, but those heated moments between us in the living room have me on edge. Maybe telling her to touch me wasn’t the best idea…

“Tate, I need my keys to drive.”

Right. Her keys are still in my hand.

“Sorry,” I mutter, giving them to her, “my bad.”

“Hey,” she says, studying me with creased eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong ? How do you tell your best friend that you’re turned on by her but without making her feel pressured or awkward about it?

Yeah, exactly.

You can’t.

“I’m just thinking.” I offer a shrug that oozes nonchalance. “Oh, by the way, I need to get groceries tomorrow. You wanna come with?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I think there’s a sale on ice cream, and Anna just ate the last of our backup supply, so the timing is perfect.”

The phrase “it’s a date” is on the tip of my tongue, but I keep that to myself, and soon we’re on our way to my house. There’s a comfortable silence between us as Skye drives, and I spend most of the time stealing glances at her.

Can you blame me though?

She’s my favorite model for a reason.

Once she stops the car in front of my place, I know it’s my cue to get out of the car, but I won’t be able to sleep tonight if she doesn’t give me some clarification about her decision. “So,” I drawl, taking my seatbelt off, “I want to talk for a second before I go inside.”

“About us?” She drags her index finger around the rim of the steering wheel, and my body goes tense as I think about her touching me again. “Tatum? Is it about us?”

Us . Dang, how does that word sound so perfect coming from her lips?

“Yeah, Pink Stuff, it’s about us.” I turn in my seat so I can see her better. “What made you decide that we should kiss again?”

I probably could’ve eased into that a little bit better, but I don’t want to beat around the bush about this.

“Oh,” she says, tugging on her seatbelt, “I just think it might help with my processing…ya know?”

No, I don’t know if us kissing again will help with her processing, but I’m willing to try. I’d have to be stupid or insane to turn down another kiss with Skye.

“Okay, yeah, I gotcha.” I offer a curt nod before addressing the next part. “And, uh, you said soon but I was just wondering if you had something more specific in mind?”

“Not really…” she trails off, smoothing her hands over her thighs. “I guess it should be whenever the moment feels right, maybe?”

Well, the only problem is every moment feels right with her.

But do I say that? No. Absolutely not.

Instead, I say, “Cool.” And then my brain repeats the word another five or six times in Jake Peralta’s voice.

“ Cool ?” Skye echoes, her eyes glinting playfully. “Interesting word choice, Tatester.”

I try not to cringe. “I’m gonna blame it on my lingering nap fog.”

“I’ll allow it.” She gives me the softest smile, and surprises me by reaching for my hand, then she laces her fingers through mine. “Thank you for being so patient with me while I figure all of this out. And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“Your reaction was understandable,” I reply, matching her hushed tone. “I know it was a lot to take in. I’m just glad you didn’t shut me out.”

“I could never shut you out,” she says with a pouty look, “you’re too important to me.”

My heart swells from her words and I know if I stay in this car any longer, my self-control is going to be nonexistent.

“You’re important to me too.” I hold our clasped hands to my chest. “You’re everything, Skye.”

She’s quiet for a second, and then she says, “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I really do.” I press a brief kiss to the back of her hand. “Which is why I’m going inside before I end up breaking my promise to you.”

She blushes for the second time tonight and tucks a few pink waves behind her ear. “Oh, um, okay, well what time are we doing grocery shopping tomorrow? Ya know, so I can be ready to go and everything?”

I know I said that Skye being jealous was my new guilty pleasure, but seeing her get flustered is kind of adorable. No, it is adorable.

“What if I pick you up around nine?”

“Nine works for me.” And then she covers her mouth as she yawns.

That’s your cue to say good night .

“I’ll see you around nine then.” I force myself to open the passenger door. “Good night, Carson. Drive safe, yeah?”

“I will,” she assures me with another soft smile. “Good night, Jacobs.”