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She blew out a long breath. “It is a really comfortable couch.”
I did a quick, two fisted, Olivia Tylor-Branch style fist pump and she laughed.
“You’re stealing my moves,” she said as we got out of the Bronco and made our way back up to the penthouse.
The documentary was about last year’s race, so all she had to do was Google the name of the winner if that’s all she wanted to know.
However, if she wasn’t going to say anything, neither was I.
* * *
Liv
“Don’t let me fall asleep,”I said. He had one of those L shaped couches. He was stretched out and I was laying down horizontal to his vertical. On his thigh. We’d finished the documentary on the Tour de France and we were now watching one about a new space telescope that came up as a recommendation. My excuse was, I was willing to watch all the free Netflix he would let me.
“‘Kay.”
“Seriously, once this is over you have to drive me back to my apartment.”
“‘Kay.”
“Because I had that bread pudding so I’m really stuffed and when I’m full like this, I tend to get sleepy.”
“Don’t forget the vanilla ice cream,” he said.
I would have pinched his jean covered thigh, but it was too muscle dense and I couldn’t get a grip.
“Your thigh is too hard,” I grumbled, and settled my body even deeper into the couch while I rolled my head on his thigh to find the perfect spot. “Also, you need throw blankets and pillows.”
“I’m a man. Men don’t need throw blankets.”
“Men are weird,” I sighed. “Throw blankets are delightful.”
“Babe, watch the show,” he said, then settled his palm softly on the top of my head.
“‘Kay,” I said, and my eyes drifted shut.
* * *
Dillon
I openedmy eyes and squinted against the light. Shit. What time was it? The TV screen was off. Which meant Netflix had asked me if I was still watching, decided I wasn’t, and turned itself off.
I picked up my phone that I had set on the couch arm.
2:40 am.
Shit. We’d both fallen asleep.
The question was now, what did we do?
If I woke her up, was she really going to make me drive her back to her apartment? She wouldn’t, right? No one wanted to go to Siberia at three in the morning.
But I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the couch. It wasn’t good for my neck or back.
I glanced down at Liv and heard the soft sounds of sleep coming from her mouth. Not a snore. Nothing so inelegant. Just the steady sound of her breathing, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a little wet patch had formed on my jeans where she’d drooled on me.
I smiled. That was another piece of her I had now. Something she would probably deny, but Liv drooled in her sleep. It shouldn’t have made my heart ache, but it did.
