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Mosaics.
Oh, my God.
Of all the things he picked, it was mosaics.
Not writing, not sketching, not even something pretty mainstream like pottery.
Who made mosaics?
I blinked at him. “Mosaics? Really?”
He shrugged. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Your mind is a rather peculiar place. Has anyone ever mentioned that?”
“Coming from you, I think that’s quite the compliment.”
“I essentially just told you that you’re weird, and you think that’s a compliment?”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little weird.” Hugo poked my cheek. “You’d know.”
“Well, that’s rude.”
“Is it still rude if I tell you that I like weird?”
“It sounds like a desperate attempt at insisting you aren’t insulting me.” I side-eyed him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t count weird as an insult. But discussing this doesn’t solve your problem.” I checked the clock. “And you really should think about going because we’ve apparently been trying to buy your grandmother a birthday present for an hour and a half now.”
He stilled. “Shit.”
“And when you get asked what you chose…”
“I’m going to need Caitlyn to cover for me.”
I jerked around, almost knocking the laptop onto the floor. Thankfully, I had relatively quick reflexes and was able to save it from being probably broken.
“You can’t tell her!” I grabbed his arm. “Hugo!”
He sighed. “You’re right. All right, I’ll come up with something. Got distracted on the way back or something like that.”
“If you say so,” I said warily, putting the computer on the coffee table and getting up after him.
“We’re going to have to be more careful.” He grabbed his jumper from the hook and pulled it over his head.
“Awfully bold of you to assume it’s going to be a regular thing for the rest of my stay here.”
Hugo pulled me into him with a swift tug of my hand and responded with a deep kiss that made butterflies go insane in my belly. He released me just as swiftly as he’d taken hold of me, grinned, and turned to get his shoes.
My cheeks burned. “I stand by my previous statement.”
He simply laughed and stood up. “I’ll have a better excuse for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? What am I? A sex toy?” I folded my arms across my chest. “What if I have plans tomorrow?”
“Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“I might make some.”
His tongue flicked out across his lower lip as he fought a smile. “Well, if you don’t, I’ll be your plans.”
