Page 67 of Every Little Thing


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I stuck my tongue out. “What are you gonna do, tase me?”

“I’m tempted.” She pulled out a keychain instead, two keys jingling on it, and she thrusted it towards me. “I copied the keys to the building. Please. Just… just use the doors instead. I’m begging you.”

I felt something thick in my throat as I took the keys. “Harper,” I said. “Asking me to move in with you? That’s so romantic.”

“All I’m saying—” Harper blurted, her face reddening. She was so cute like this, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kiss her again.

“Hey, I’m saying yes.”

“Uh—” She stammered, blanking on words, blushing harder. I pushed the keys into my pocket, strolling past her.

“We’re basically married now,” I hummed. “C’mon, wifey. Let’s get to our show.”

“P-Paisley. I just want you to stop climbing onto my roof.”

“Hey, you have to have one wife who climbs the roof to fix the shingles.”

“I don’t even have shingles! And—have you ever done roofing a day in your life?”

I paused at the base of the stairs, beaming at her. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Do you want to watch a show with me or stand here in an empty room while I eat your snacks?”

She hung her head, following along behind me with her shoulders hunched. “You’re so incorrigible,” she muttered, and really, I was just upset she kept her face down so I couldn’t see her blush. I was tempted to just take her by the chin and tilt herback up to look at me, but… well, we’d probably be down here all day if I did.

And then I’d never get to sit on the couch with my wife and watch Buffy, and if that wasn’t torture, I didn’t know what was.

I busied myself making coffee once we got upstairs, Harper setting up the show, and I dropped myself on the couch next to her as she started up the episode we’d left off on yesterday. I cuddled up next to her, feeling impossibly like I could not get close enough no matter how hard I tried, and we weren’t five minutes into the episode before I had both arms wrapped around her, my head tucked into the crook of her neck, one leg crossed over hers possessively. It was like every little bit of pulling her closer to me made my heart so full, and I was addicted, just wanting all I could get. It was halfway through the episode when I found myself idly kissing her bare shoulder just below the hem of her shirt, and she murmured something softly as she melted back into me.

I kind of wondered if this was what having a wifewaslike in the first place. I kept my attention only half-focused on the show, peppering kisses lightly on the back of her head, on her neck, caressing the soft skin of her arm.

If it was, then having a wife sounded pretty cool. My parents definitely didn’t do this, though. I wondered if you just stopped wanting to after a while. Hard to wrap my head around. I could have kept doing this with Harps forever.

Once the end credits of the episode were rolling, Harper murmured, “I didn’t say it, but you look cute today. That’s a new shirt?”

“Mm-hm. Kay said the color’s nice. And works with my coat, too.”

“I have noticed you’re fond of the coat.”

“It’s a signature piece. Don’t complain that your wife is fashionable.”

“I’m not,” she laughed. “I like the lip color today too.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s the same one I wore to Honey’s.” I laughed lightly, kissing her neck again. “Well, I got my own this time. That time I just swiped Emby’s.”

“You used Emberlynn’s lipstick? I’d feel like I was making out with someone if I used their lipstick…”

“Ew.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t put that thought in my head. Gross. Gag. I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“Mm. Good.” She rested her head against me, murmuring softly, and I felt like my chest would explode. We physically could not get any closer, but I kind of… needed her closer.

The next episode came and went. I paid even less attention to this one, too busy sneaking a hand under Harper’s shirt, trailing patterns around her navel, peppering her with kisses without even realizing I was doing it.

And then at the ending credits of the next episode, I stepped in it, because I heard myself say, “Was it a girlfriend?”

“What?”

“Friend? Wife?”

I felt the moment it sank in what I was asking, her muscles tensing. I felt a hot flush of something like guilt.

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