When he pulls back, his eyes roam over my face. And he shocks me when he reaches up and pushes my hair back from my face with a gentle hand. “You’re cute.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing, pushing at him to get off, but he doesn’t budge. “That’s not funny.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know I’m not—” I gesture at myself, my face and my body making my argument for me.
“Are you serious right now?”
“I’m clearly not an attractive person.”
“Nolan,” he says, and it sort of sounds like Frank, when his kids are being particularly stupid. “Why would I be dating you if I wasn’t attracted to you?”
I’ve wondered that myself, but decided not to question it, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I shrug. “Because of my personality?”
He scoffs, and I think maybe I should be offended. “Definitely not that. Your personality sucks.”
“What—”
“You’re a self-righteous, documentary-watching, khaki-wearing—”
“Will—”
“I’m not dating you for your personality. I’m dating you because you’ve been driving me insane for twenty years.”
I open my mouth.
“Your hair,” he says, running his hand through it while I stare up at him in shock. “The way you look in scrubs. Your ass. Your hands. Your mouth, even with the stupid mustache.”
“You hate it—”
“I lied. I like the mustache.” He says it like it pains him. “And this—” He presses his palm flat against my stomach, and I try not to squirm when he slides down my body to plant a kiss against my stomach. Where I know I’m less than desirable.
“And this—”
He slides up to my chest, kissing along the way, before he reaches my collarbone, and the kisses seem to have more teeth. “Don’t,” I say. “Will, please don’t do that.”
He pulls back to look at me, the smirk I love so much firmly in place. “But I gotta,” he says. “You’re mine now. I have to make sure everybody knows it.”
“You don’t actually hate my personality, do you?” I ask, when we’re dressed again, and Will opens the door to leave, snow flurries hitting us in the face as he turns the light off behind him and shuts the door.
“Nah,” he says, pulling open the passenger seat door. “You wore me down. I’m in love with the biggest nerd in Rosehill. God help me.”
Emmett’s car is still in the driveway when we get home, and something in me relaxes that’s been wound tight since we left Addie home without one of us. I glance at the clock on the radio, and it’s later than we planned after spending an hour in bed.
The house is silent, with Ollie staying with Jess tonight, but there are signs of life. The TV left on, half eaten snacks on thecounter.
“I’ll check on her,” I say, starting up toward her room, with Will following anyway.
Her bedroom light is on, and there’s a pizza at the foot of the bed from earlier, when she texted and asked if it was okay to order one. A movie is playing on the TV in her room, but the volume is muted, the remote sitting beside Emmett.
Addie is curled against his side, his arm around her with his head tipped down to rest against hers, both of them sound asleep.
Standing in the doorway watching them, I wonder once again why Addie would ever reject his feelings. It’s so obvious to me and everyone else that they love each other.
But I turn the light off, pulling the door back to where it was, leaving that up to her.
“I think they’re going to be okay,” I say to Will, leaning against the hallway across from him.
