He laid back in bed, his hands behind his head. He tried hard to stay still, but it was hard. This whole situation was hard. He was just your friend.

But friends don’t do this.

You straddled his hips as you colored in his chest tattoo with markers. The cold felt-tips caressed his flesh, and it made Ky shiver — in the best way possible. He was a flustered mess, and he knew it.