Page 56 of Emil

“All right. You have free run of everything, but I’m holding on to the right to intervene if I’m worried it’s too much or too far.”

His voice was soft and easy, like he was talking to a skittish animal ready to bolt.

“I can accept that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweet boy.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EMIL

“Hey, sleepyhead. Are you going to sleep on the couch all night?”

I leaned forward and brushed the hair off Anders’s face. He’d started out sitting on the couch working on his felting, but at some point, he’d laid down to keep going. Eventually, he’d set the project aside and closed his eyes for just a moment, and that had been the last movement I’d seen from him.

It was still early enough in the evening that I let him sleep while I worked on my latest project. When it got close to his usual bedtime, I made my way to the couch.

Anders looked so peaceful lying there. His eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, faint stubble shadowed his jawline, and his hair spread out around him. He’d forgotten to put it back up in his bun, or maybe he’d left it down for me. Either way, I was drawn to the golden strands when he still didn’t stir.

I gave his shoulder a gentle shake. Nothing.

I leaned down and kissed his cheek. That at least earned me a tiny snuffle.

“Gonna sleep here. Please.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. You can’t sleep on the couch. That’s not going to be comfortable all night. Come on. You’ve got to get up.”

“Too tired to walk home. The couch is super comfy. I’ll be fine.”

Sleepy Anders was fucking adorable Anders.

“No, sweetheart. Come on. You’re going to sleep in my bed. I’ll behave.”

“You don’t gotta behave.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not true. Come on. Let’s go.”

I nudged his feet down to the floor and coached him upright. It took more effort to get him fully on his feet and moving down the hall. I steered him into the bathroom attached to my bedroom and handed him a spare toothbrush and some toothpaste.

“You do that, and I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”

I came back with a ragged T-shirt from our corporate pickleball team and a pair of flannel pants covered in dancing pickles. The sheer absurdity of them cut through the last of his sleepiness.

“These are yours?” The shock in his voice made me laugh.

“My sister gave them to me for Christmas a few years ago. I was obsessed.”

“But do you like them now?”

“They’re my favorite pair. Hands down.”

“And you’re letting me borrow them?” Anders said, wide-eyed. “I feel really special.”

“You should. I’m kind of bummed I don’t get to wear them tonight,” I said with a wink. “Brush your teeth, get changed, do what you need to do, and then we’ll get you tucked into bed.”

Anders nodded, still sleepy, and turned back to the sink.

I left him alone in the bathroom and went back into my bedroom, pulling down the covers. Thank God, I changed the sheets a couple of days ago. They were fresh and clean for him.