My T-shirt barely covers my ass, and even though I shouldn’t let them bother me, Brooks’ words wiggle their way under my skin. I tug at the hem, trying hard to make the shirt longer to hide the thighs that have never once bothered me before.

“Your turn, Gav.” I peek into the attached bedroom, assuming he’ll be getting his shit together, but the room is empty. “Gavin?” I pad down the short hallway to the living room and see his bare feet hanging off the end of the couch, blankets and pillows all in place but just not enough real estate for his tall frame. “What are you doing?”

Blond curls tumble around his face as he looks up at me from the screen of his phone. He taps a few more times and drops it to the flat slab of abdominal muscle on display above the blanket folded at his waist. I swallow, willing some kind of moisture into my mouth, studying the ink that has multiplied since I last saw him this exposed, sprawled across my bed in Florida.

The simple tree of life tattoo on his shoulder has become a forest of ink, a journey of life chronicled in the smooth, flawless skin stretched taut across his chest, cherry blossoms dancing across the side of his torso.

“Just getting comfy. You have everything you need?” He nods toward the back of the suite.

“Yeah, but let me sleep there. I’ll fit a lot better than you.” I laugh, slapping at his dangling foot, trying futilely to ignore the glint of metal pierced through his nipples.

Gavin doesn’t miss the stuttered way my eyes rove over his body. “Nah, I’m good. Hit the light on your way back?”

I grab the blanket and give it a tug. “Take the bed. It’s your hotel.”

His hand darts out, knocking his phone to the floor. Tightly clutching the blanket in his fist, Gavin huffs out, “You might not want to do that, babe. Might get more than you bargained for.”

My cheeks flame as I bite my lip. “No laundry service on tour, or you just not bothering with the boxer briefs anymore?”

“You want to see? Need a happy thought to help you fall asleep?”

He slides his palm down the bumpy ridges of his abs and lower, taking the blanket with it. My eyes glide down the deeply etched V of muscles … that disappear beneath the waistband of boxer briefs sporting little cartoon elephants with disproportionately large trunks.

“You ass.” I snort, chucking a throw pillow at his head. I turn and make my way into the bedroom. I crawl between the sheets and wrap my arms around one of the many, many pillows on this luscious bed.

Rustling and sounds of shifting drift in from the other room as I make every effort to unwind. Funny, the harder I try to relax, the tenser I get. A tension I haven’t felt in a lot of months. A tension I can’t seem to get out of my mind now that my thoughts have gone there.

I push the pillow away and roll to my back, arms flat at my sides, doing my deep yoga breathing, willing my brain to stop the Tumblr-worthy GIF of Gavin’s hand sliding south that’s playing on loop.

More rustling accompanies the matching deep breaths from the couch.

I flop to my stomach, wrapping back around another pillow, and start counting backward from one hundred, one number for each deep inhale and another for the slow exhale. It’s been forever since I had to resort to this in order to get myself to sleep. Somewhere around seventy-two, I hear footsteps coming down the hall.

“You awake?” His voice drifts through the darkness.

“Yep. Need to crawl in?” I ask, scooting to the side to make room in the ginormous bed. It’s totally an unnecessary move, but my counting and breathing were just starting to relax me.

The mattress dips behind me, and the blankets shift. Red numbers from the clock glare at me, reminding me that I have less than five hours to sleep and a long day of tedium when I get to work.

And Brooks. I’ll have to deal with that dickhead.

My mind races with the way that entitled prick treated me, the things he said. The way he put his slimy hand on my ass.

“You’re not gonna solve it until you talk it out.” Gavin’s gravelly voice seeks me out in the pitch black. “Or you could go back to that deep-breathing thing you were doing.”

“Sorry.” I fluff my pillow, inhaling and exhaling once I’m settled. Three more breaths, each growing more forceful than the one before, and instead of relaxing, the tension builds in me again.

I should probably just go read and at least let Gavin get some sleep. Just as I make my decision, the mattress shifts again, and warm fingertips trace featherlight circles down the center of my back. No, not circles, letters.

G-R-A-C-Y-N.

The motions soothe me. Guessing the letters and what they spell take my mind off the stress of what awaits me in the morning.

S-O G-L-A-D I F-O-U-N-D Y-O-U A-G-A-I-N.

My body relaxes, limbs and lids growing heavy with each pass of his fingers over my spine.

“Me, too.” My mumbled words carry far more honesty than I might have wanted to show so quickly.

As I float away, finally drifting to sleep, I feel that warm hand slide down my arm. His leg settles between mine, and his chest rests against my back.

Safe.

Grounded.

Warm breaths skate across my skin, soft lips press a kiss to the nape of my neck, and like I’m finally comfortable for the first time in ages, I drift away into the type of peaceful sleep I’ve been lacking.

The last remnants of tension ease out of Gracyn’s muscles as I inhale the scent of her hair, pressing my lips to the sexiest spot on a woman’s body. Don’t get me wrong; her ass and the swell of those hips send my blood flowing south with a vengeance. The perky dancer’s tits make me believe wholeheartedly in God and all of his greatest accomplishments. But the back of a woman’s neck is the spot I dream about.

And, of course, now that she’s asleep, all I want to do is wake her back up.