It had nothing to do with her wanting to get a look at his bare chest.
Nope, nothing at all.
“What are you doing?”
“Um, I was going to turn the light on?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to trip and fall. That’s all. It had nothing to do with your abs. Nope. Nothing.”
“You’re acting odd.” He drew back the covers on his side of the bed.
Oh Lord. Now she’d given him a side of the bed. Next, he’d have his clothes in some of the closet and his toothbrush in the bathroom.
“Me? No, I’m not. I just didn’t want you to stub your toe.”
“The bathroom light is on.”
Yes, but that didn’t give enough light for her to see everything.
“Why did you slap your hand?” he asked.
“I, um, don’t know.” She couldn’t tell him the truth.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t do it again.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really don’t do it again.” He lay back on the bed and just lay there.
Okay, she hadn’t thought this through. What did she do now? Should she roll over, away from him? What if she snored? Drooled?
“Stop thinking,” he ordered.
She snorted. “Kind of impossible. I’m always thinking.”
“I know. You worry too much.”
“There’s no one else to do it for me,” she said in a light voice.
“I told you I’d take on all your worries. You just have to tell them to me.”
How would he react if she told him she was wondering whether it was possible to just take a small peek under the covers once he’d fallen asleep without waking him?
Bad Keira.
“Did you smack your hand again?” he growled.
“Um, no.”
“Keira,” he rumbled.
“I don’t like when you call me that.”