Thomas & January by Fisher Amelie Page A

competition.”
              January thought for moment before the most mischievous look on her face crossed her features. “We’ll beat ’em.”
              She made my heart pound. “We will?” I shifted my feet around a bit.
              She rolled her eyes. “I know your ear for music and I know his. We’re going to beat him.”
              We’re going to beat him , she’d said. “If you say so,” I said, turning my head toward the water but feeling an ache in my chest the likes I’d never felt before. I barely stopped my hand from grabbing at my heart.
              January fell asleep on my chest half an hour into our journey and I hated how much I loved looking at her as she slept.

January
              Thomas thought I’d fallen asleep on his chest. I knew this because after I’d taken the liberty of using his chest as a pillow and a few minutes had passed in silence, I’d opened my mouth to tell him what an incredible ass I thought he was but was struck mute when he tentatively began to rub my arm. I fought the goose bumps threatening to betray me and paid great attention to the movement of his hand.
              At first, he used only the tip of his index finger, experimenting with a mere graze here and there. I guessed when he felt like I was properly asleep because I felt the weight of all his fingertips explore the surface of my arm, but he always remained above the elbow, still testing the waters it seemed. He traced the contours of my arm over and over almost driving me insane but just when I was about to shiver uncontrollably, he placed his entire warm palm on my arm and guided it down to my wrist then back up.
              It was the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced and it was only my bleeping arm. He stopped and I wanted to cry out for him to continue, but he surprised me when I felt his warm palm cross my nape and throat. He guided his hand up to the back of my neck and back down to my shoulders. My breathing got deeper and I fought to regulate it, swallowing as silently as possible so not to scare him off.
              “So soft,” he barely breathed, making me melt at this unseen side of him.
              His hand followed my arm down again until he reached my hand. He picked it up and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand before threading his fingers through my own, holding them there. I wanted so badly to squeeze his grip, to let him know I knew and that it was okay, but couldn’t bring myself to ruin the amazing moment. The moment I discovered Thomas Eriksson was nothing but a fake. His river ran much deeper than I imagined, and I knew this from his careful and remarkably affectionate touch. He was a master at the game of pretend, but I knew all his secrets in this tiny slip of his guard and I planned on disarming him completely...by Paris. Careful, Thomas. I thought. I’ve got your number.
              That’s when my eyes closed in sincerity. I’d never fallen asleep so easily and I had Tom to thank for that.

***

              “You seem to sleep on me very easily,” Tom said, waking me.
              I turned over in his lap and looked up into his face, smiling like I knew something he didn’t. “Good morning?” I asked.
              “Yes, but it’s close to eleven now. We’re docking soon. Now, actually. We should be able to get to our car within the next fifteen minutes.”
I sat up and stretched, still smiling. He’d let me sleep on him the entire ferry ride.
              “What?” he asked, suspicious.
              “Nothing,” I said, checking my stupid grin.
              People were lining up at the doors to access their cars and we followed suit. Inching closer and closer as the Dublin Swift ’s employees guided