Butterflies. Butterflies everywhere. Mostly in my tummy, but also fluttering about the room. Christ, when did I turn into such a sadsack?
‘Mm,’ I mumbled, waking up slowly despite the winged riot going on in my midsection. ‘I never get tired of hearing that.’
Conor leaned up on his elbow and kissed me under the ear. Greedily, I snuggled further into him, curling up tighter and smiling when I heard him laugh and slip an arm around my waist, holding me against his chest. ‘I’m well aware of the effect I have on you,’ he murmured in my ear and I shivered involuntarily. Even after seven months of living in each other’s pockets, Conor Archibald only has to look at me a certain way and my pulse accelerates. I’d feel like a prize idiot if I didn’t know for a fact that I can do the same thing to him.
‘Mm, I’m not complaining,’ I murmured, rolling over to face him, our faces dangerously close together. My lips parted and I gazed up at him as my breath quickened.
‘Breakfast?’ he asked brightly, his eyes shining. I rolled mine in response and was about to start grumbling when I felt his lips descend on mine forcefully. I fell back against the pillow as waves of pleasure rolled through my body, my fingers twining themselves through his soft hair to pull him closer. Conor hummed appreciatively against my lips as they moved in sync, rapidly and forcefully.
‘Get a room,’ a voice groaned from above us, and Conor pulled away from me with a yelp as a shoe bounced off his head.
‘Alright,’ he grumbled, rubbing the sore patch. I wrinkled my nose and leaned over the edge of the bed to look up at the top bunk. Tarquin’s big dark eyes blinked back at me innocently.
‘What? I was just saying.’
I made a face, grabbed Conor, kissed him once more, stuck my tongue out at Tarquin, and rolled over to go back to sleep, my face buried in a bemused Conor’s chest.