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Shit.
He made sense.
“I hate it that that makes sense.”
He chuckled, touched his mouth to mine briefly, and said, “I hate it too, honey. But I’m right.”
He was.
Us connecting in that way was important. It was a huge step in what we were building.
It had to be all about us.
Ugh.
He slid off me, rolled me so my back was to his front, then he lifted his knees, taking mine with his, and tucked me tight to his body with his arm around me.
God, he could work a spoon too.
This man.
Yum.
“I’m glad you were there through it,” I said into the dark.
“I am too.”
“I miss Cleo,” I went on.
“Me too.”
I knew what I wanted to say next, I just didn’t know whether or not it would freak him.
Then I thought, if Martha hadn’t, and Dream hadn’t, and well,Ihadn’t, then this wouldn’t.
“Did you pack enough clothes in that backpack to get you through sleepovers for the next week?” I asked.
He started laughing and through it said, “No.” He then shifted so he could kiss my neck, and in my ear, he said, “But I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”
I relaxed into him.
“Go to sleep,” he ordered.
“Okay,” I mumbled, the entirety of the last few days rushing in all at once, making me suddenly sleepy when I was anything but two minutes ago.
Cap pulled me closer.
I sprinted toward dreamland.
I was catapulted out of it when he said into the back of my hair, “The extreme of the last few days saved you from our talk about what’s on your wall, baby. But just so you know, we’re gonna get to that soon.”
Well…
Great.
Just…
Great.
