When she makes no signs of moving for one agonizingly long minute, I whisper, “Cupcake…you’re staying with me tonight?”
“Want me to?”
“Perilously.”
“It won’t cause problems if I do?”
Her legs around mine are much too apparent. All the same, I say, “I love problems.”
Her lips curve against my chest. “Breakfast tomorrow is Belgian waffles. I don’t have my phone with me, so I don’t have my alarm. Will you make sure I get up in time to make them before we have to go to the studio?”
“I will try.”
“Should I get my phone?”
Unintentionally, my arms clamp around her, refusing to let her go. “We can get breakfast somewhere if we have to.”
“What about your family?”
“Our family can deal,” I murmur. “You’remine.”
Which is a very safe, not at all toxic or concerning, thing to say.
When Clara snuggles even closer, I can only assume she agrees.
