“Nah, I want you to come see it in person.” He paused. “I miss you. I want to see you,” he said again.
The breath in my lungs stilled.
He was tired and stressed. It was probably making him a little more direct and edgier than usual. But there was something so primal and matter-of-fact about the way he said he wanted to see me. Like seeing me was a need. The way someone says they need to eat or sleep.
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t ask Maddy to boat me to shore this late.”
“What if…” He stopped. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“No, it’s too much,” he said.
“No, tell me.”
“I was just going to say, what if you took the boat yourself so she doesn’t have to drive you? Come over and just go back in the morning.”
I smiled. “You’re inviting me to a sleepover? You’re going to see me tomorrow anyway for our next date.”
“Too long.”
I didn’t reply. Because I actually agreed.
“Come over,” he said again into the silence. “Please.”
I didn’t reply.
Then the phone beeped to let me know he was video calling me. My heart started racing.
I accepted the call with my own camera on.
He was lying in bed. The room was dim. His hair was messy and he had a gray T-shirt on.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I said, softly.
We sat there, looking at each other. I drank him in. I don’t know how he pulled it off, but he was somehow completely cuddly looking and adorable but sexy at the same time.
I looked at his lips and my mind flickered to the kiss.
The kiss…
The kiss I couldn’t stop thinking about. Maybe he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to come over so bad…
I examined the curve of his collarbone, the hollow at the base of his neck. His brown eyes studied me back and he seemed a little vulnerable lying there, like this last week had taken something from him. And how could it not? He’d lost his mom, and the reality of his new life was hitting him. I knew what it was like to be thrust from one living situation to the next. It’s jarring and disruptive—and he didn’t have to do it. He could have done the easy thing for him by letting them go with Leigh. She loved them and would have been a great foster mom. It was a good option—but it wasn’t the best option. He was. So he’d sacrificed his way of life, and I deeply respected him for it—even more now that I saw how hard it was in practice.
“I know I told you this,” I said, “but I do think you did the right thing taking them.”
He breathed out. “Yeah.”
We peered at each other through the screen.
“What would we do if I came over?” I asked.
“Nothing you don’t want to do. We could just cuddle.”
I smiled. “Cuddle, huh? Every man who’s trying to get a woman to come over says he just wants to cuddle.”
He looked amused. “Okay. And what if I don’t want to just cuddle? Would you blame me?”
I pretended to think about it. “Hmmmm… no.”
He laughed quietly. “Seriously, we can just go to sleep,” he said. “I’d be happy just to have you here. Be able to talk to you in person. Also I like the way your hair smells.”
“I like the way you smell too,” I admitted.
He smiled at this.
I pictured what would really happen if I went over there.
He’d sneak me upstairs through his dark house to his room, tiptoeing so we wouldn’t wake the kids. I’d climb into his bed while he stripped down to his underwear to go to sleep. He’d get in next to me and hug me to that broad chest.
There’s no way either of us would sleep.
At some point he’d kiss me, or I’d kiss him. I’d take my shirt off. Maybe I’d slide a hand into the top of his waistband to see if he was hard. He would be. His hands would slide too. Down between my legs, fingers searching. He’d pull my pants down—
I had to shake myself out of it. Going over there was not within the realm of practical things today. But God I really wanted to.
