If There's No Tomorrow. Jennifer L. Armentrout

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was in it, the bed too tiny and the air too thick.

      “What in the hell are you watching?” he asked, keeping his voice low as he stared at the TV.

      I looked at the screen. There was a guy with bushy, crazy-looking brown hair waving his hands around. “Um...Ancient Aliens reruns.”

      “All righty, then. Guess it’s less morbid than the forensics show you watch. Sometimes I worry...” Sebastian trailed off as he faced me. His head tilted to the side. “Is that...my shirt?”

      Oh. Oh my God.

      My eyes widened as I remembered what I was wearing: his old freshman practice shirt. A couple of years ago he left it over here for some reason or another, and I kept it.

      Like a stalker.

      My cheeks flushed, and the blush raced down the front of my body. And there was a whole lot of body on display. The shirt hung off one shoulder, I had no bra, and I fought the urge to tug on the hem of the shirt.

      I told myself not to freak out, because he’d seen me in bathing suits a million times. This was no different.

      But it was.

      “It is my shirt.” Thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes as he sat on my bed. “Wondered where that went.”

      I didn’t know what to say. I was suddenly petrified, plastered to the door. Did he think my wearing his shirt to sleep was weird? Because yeah, it was kind of weird. I couldn’t deny that.

      He threw himself down on the bed, then immediately sat up. “Ow. What the hell?” Rubbing his back, he twisted at the waist. “Jesus.” He picked up my book and held it out. “You’re reading this?”

      My eyes narrowed. “Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

      “This thing could double as a weapon. You could hit me over the head with this thing, kill me and then end up on one of those shows you watch on Investigation Discovery.”

      I rolled my eyes. “That’s a bit excessive.”

      “Whatever.” He tossed the book to the other side of the bed. “Were you getting ready for bed?”

      “I was getting ready to read before I was rudely interrupted,” I joked. Forcing myself away from the door, I slowly dragged my way over to where he was now stretched out on his side, lying there like it was his bed, cheek resting on his fist. “But someone, no names mentioned, is now here.”

      His lips kicked up at the sides. “Want me to leave?”

      “No.”

      “Didn’t think so.” He patted the spot next to him. “Come talk with me. Tell me everything I’ve missed.”

      Ordering myself not to act like a complete dork, I sat on the bed, which wasn’t easy because of the shirt. I so did not want to flash him. Or maybe I did want to flash him. But he probably didn’t want that.

      “You haven’t missed much,” I said, glancing at my bedroom door. Thank God I’d closed it already. “Keith’s thrown a couple of parties—”

      “You went to them without me?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “My heart. It hurts.”

      I grinned at him as I stretched my legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “I went with the girls. I didn’t go by myself. And so what if I did?”

      The grin went up a notch. “Did he have any down by the lake?”

      Shaking my head, I tugged on the hem of my shirt as I wiggled my toes. “No. Just at his place.”

      “Cool.” When I looked over at him, his lashes were lowered. His free hand rested on the bed between us. His fingers were long and slender, skin tan from being outside all the time. “You do anything else? Go out with anyone?”

      I stopped moving my toes, and my head swung back toward him. That was a random question. “Not really.”

      An eyebrow rose as his gaze lifted to mine.

      I quickly changed the subject. “By the way, guess who stopped in at Joanna’s tonight, asking about you?”

      “Who wouldn’t stop by asking about me?”

      I shot him a bland look.

      He grinned. “Who?”

      “Skylar. Apparently she’s been messaging you and you’ve been ignoring her.”

      “I haven’t been ignoring her.” He reached up, knocking the flop of hair off his forehead. “I just haven’t been responding.”

      A frown turned down the corners of my lips. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

      “What did she want?” he asked instead of answering.

      “To talk to you.” I leaned back against the headboard and grabbed the pillow, thrusting it into my lap. “She said... She asked me to tell you that she was asking for you.”

      “Well, look at you, doing as you’re told.” He paused, his grin increasing. “For once.”

      I chose to ignore that comment. “She also said she thought breaking up with you was a mistake.”

      His head jerked back and that grin faded. “She said that?”

      My heart started pounding in my chest. He sounded surprised. Was that a happy surprise or bad one? Did he still care about her? “Yeah.”

      Sebastian didn’t move for a second and then shook his head. “Whatever.” His hand moved lightning fast, snatching the pillow out of my lap. He shoved it under his head.

      “Help yourself,” I muttered, tugging the shirt back up my shoulder.

      “Just did.” He smiled up at me. “You have another freckle.”

      “What?” I turned my head to him. Since I could remember, my face looked like it got hit with a freckle cannon. “There is no way you can tell if I have another freckle.”

      “I can tell. Lean over. I can even show you where.”

      I hesitated, eyeing him.

      “Come on,” he coaxed, hooking his finger at me.

      Inhaling a shallow breath, I leaned toward him. Hair slipped over my shoulder as he lifted his hand.

      That grin was back, playing over his lips. “Right there...” He pressed the tip of his finger to the center of my chin. I sucked in air. His lashes swept down. “That’s a new one.”

      For a moment, I couldn’t move. All I could do was sit there, leaning toward him with his finger touching my chin. It was crazy and stupid, because it was just the softest touch, but I felt it in every cell of my body.

      He lowered his hand to the space between us again.

      I exhaled

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