The hardest thing, Kaitlyn kept telling herself, was lying in the same bed with Ryan, both of them close to naked, and not having sex. They'd been doing this for three nights and she was about to tear her hair out.
It was hard to miss the signs of his arousal, the big bulge at the front of the sweat shorts he'd decided to sleep in. But he'd apparently been struck by some sense of nobility because every time she snuggled the least bit closer to him, he rearranged them in the bed. Whenever she turned to face him, he stroked her cheek, brushed a kiss over her lips, then actually lifted her and turned her to face the other way.
"We have to be careful of your ankle," he kept reminding her.