7
Celia
I was so warm, overly so and I tried to push the heavy blanket off of me. When I put my hands over me to move it away, it wasn’t a blanket, but an arm. My breath caught and my heart skipped before I remembered. Luke and Walker. I was in bed with one of them.
Glancing down, I saw an arm, sprinkled with dark hair, about my waist. Based on the hair color on the arm, it was Walker. The hand was so big, it reached from my hipbone to have the thumb brush the underside of my breast. My bare breast. I’d worn Luke’s shirt to bed, but it had ridden up well past my waist and Walker’s hand was beneath it.
It all came back to me then. Arriving in Denver, the luxurious hotel room, the men’s pressure into having me admit hard truths, the f*****g. God, the f*****g.
The blanket had fallen abou
