Page 258 of Romeo

Fiona in bed. Hair down. Bare legs. A shirt that probably wasn’t nearly big enough for what I was currently imagining.

I went quiet without meaning to.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“That was a very loud nothing.”

I rubbed my thumb across my lower lip. “Just thinking that shirt should be mine.”

She didn’t answer immediately and I didn’t rescue her from it.

Finally, she said, “You’d have to give me one first.”

My eyebrows rose.

“Well, look at you.”

“What?”

“Getting brave.”

“I said you’d have to give me a shirt.”

“Yeah, Cher. I heard you.”

“Why are you making it sound dirty?”

“I’m not making anything sound dirty.” I sat up and rested my forearms on my knees. “You’re the one sitting in bed asking for my clothes.”

“I am not asking for your clothes.”

“You just told me I’d have to give you one.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Feels pretty close.”

Her laugh dropped lower, more amused now that she’d realized I was playing with her. “Maybe I just think your shirts look comfortable.”

“Comfortable.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing to do with the fact that they’re mine?”

The silence stretched just enough to answer me.

My grin widened. “Thought so.”

“You think you know everything.”

“Not everything.” I stood and wandered toward the window, restless energy beginning to work under my skin. “I am curious about one thing.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Usually is.”