The debt will be cleared soon. Then I can ask her the question that’s been burning in my chest since the day I carved a knife and whisk into cedar wood. Soon, the ring hidden in the nightstand can finally find its proper home on her finger.
But for now, I revel in her weight against my chest, her breathing deep and even, the particular intimacy of an afternoon spent unpacking boxes and making love on top of the ruins of her organizational efforts.
“Tovek?” she says after a while, her voice soft with approaching sleep.
“Yeah?”
“Next time I try to organize your stuff, maybe warn me if there’s something you don’t want me to find.” She pauses, her hand stilling on my chest. “I won’t go looking. I promise. But it would save you the anxiety.”
I laugh despite myself, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “Deal.”
“Good. Now let’s take a nap, and then we can actually find a place for the trophy. Properly this time. Without destroying all my work. And without sex. Probably.”
“Probably?”
“I’m not making any promises,” she says, already half-asleep. “You’re very distracting. It’s a problem.”
“Your problem,” I point out.
“Our problem,” she corrects. “We’re a team. We share problems. And closets. And trophies. And apparently a complete inability to organize anything without getting distracted.”
“I love you,” I say, meaning it completely.
“I love you too,” she murmurs. “Even though you’re a disaster. Especially because you’re a disaster.”
She falls asleep like that, her breathing deep and even, completely trusting.
Soon, I’ll ask her to marry me.
CHAPTER 15
mei
The doorbell chimes just as I’m pulling on Tovek’s t-shirt. The faded black one with “The Drunken Dragon” stretched across his massive chest. It hangs on me like a dress, the hem brushing mid-thigh as I pad barefoot across the living room.
My hair is still damp from the shower, twisted into a messy bun that drips down my neck.
We weren’t expecting anyone. Tovek has the day off after working a double, and I’m still officially “recovering” from the cook-off according to Greta’s texts, which have gotten increasingly pointed about me actually resting.
But the thought of visitors doesn’t make my stomach twist anymore. Not here. Not in our space.
“Did you order something?” I call toward the bedroom where Tovek’s pulling on his pants, his massive frame taking up more than its fair share of our bed.
“No,” he calls back. “Might be a delivery for the downstairs unit?”
The bell rings again, followed by three short, distinct knocks. Familiar and deliberate. My heartbeat picks up as I swing thedoor open to find Sunny and Khanner standing in the hallway, their faces lighting up when they see me.
“Surprise!” Sunny launches herself at me, wrapping me in a hug that smells like expensive perfume and airplane air conditioning. “We know we should’ve called, but Khanner swore you’d be home since it’s Tuesday and?—”
“You’re here.” I wrap my arms around her. “You’re actually here.”
Behind her, Khanner smiles. He’s carrying a small, carefully wrapped package, his free hand resting at the small of Sunny’s back with easy affection.
“We were on our way back to Obsidian City, when Sunny had the great idea to detour here first,” he says, his deep voice filling the small hallway. “Plus, Sunny insisted we deliver these immediately.”
He holds out the package. It’s wrapped in brown paper tied with twine. Nondescript enough that I know something special is inside.
“You didn’t,” I say, unwrapping it carefully. I lift the wooden box and open it. The aroma makes my eyes water.
