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David laughs softly. “No. I picked them up last week. I figured, the way you sometimes fall asleep here… You might need something…”
I touch the pajama top. It’s soft and satiny. For some reason, I’m as overcome by emotion at this as I was Benji’s approval.
“David,” I murmur. “That’s so nice.”
He comes over and places his hands on my waist. I realize belatedly that this is the first time all night we’ve been alone.
“No,” he says, voice tender. “Nice of you coming here and hanging out with my kid when you didn’t have to. I appreciate it.”
I open my mouth to protest, to insist it was no big deal, but then David covers his mouth with mine.
The kiss is as soft and lovely as the pajamas my fingers are still touching. When he pulls away from me, I lean towards him. We kiss again, and I feel something unfurl in my chest.
“Thank you, David,” I whisper against his mouth.
And for the first time since all this started, I actually forget that this isn’t real. For the rest of the night, brushing my teeth, making small talk, climbing into bed—this night with David feels as honest and real as anything I’ve ever experienced.
CHAPTER 24
David
Laura wakes up slowly and messily, as she has in the past, and I feel my heart twist uncomfortably. It’s almost like the worse she looks in the morning, the harder I fall for her—and the harder I fall, the more pain my chest feels. At this rate, I’m going to need a coronary just to move on.
She stretches, her toes curling, and smiles before she opens her eyes. Her red hair splays around her head like a flame. It makes me feel remarkable like I’m witnessing something in nature. Like she’s the only thing that matters.
“David,” she says, voice gravel-thick and low. “Why the hell am I hungover?”
I brush her hair out of her face. “Because last night you insisted we play a drinking game, despite mewarningyou that I am very good at poker.”
“Fuck,” she grumbles, and then rolls over. Her panties are pink with little bows on them, and her t-shirt (my t-shirt) has ridden up to mid-stomach.
“That was your goal, I believe, though we had to cut things short when it became clear you were actually drunk.”
She sticks her tongue out at me.Ow,I think, only just fighting the urge to hold my chest.
Laura has been sleeping over more and more lately. Ever since Benji lifted the ban, we have taken advantage of it. I know I shouldn’t be doing that—I know that it’s just making everything harder. But…
Well, it’s very hard to admit to the problem, when the problem itself is so fucking cute.
“There’s aspirin and a water bottle, if you feel brave enough to lift your head,” I say. I rub my hand on her back gently.
Valentine’s Day weekend is coming up, and as our time comes to an end, I am being drawn farther and farther into Laura’s atmosphere.
The need for her—and, Jesus, thewantfor her—is getting impossible to ignore. Beyond any sort of attraction, I just…
I just enjoy spending time with her.
As it has since the beginning, thinking anything too positive about her fills me with a sense of dread. The deadline is approaching, and I still haven’t brought it up to her despite several days passing since Lewis asked us to accompany them.
“I’m going to make breakfast,” I say, standing up. My heart beats fast.
“Waffles,” Laura requests from the pillows she’s pressing into. I nod, though she isn’t looking, and flee.
The kids are at their mom’s, so the kitchen is quiet when I get down there.
I can hear Laura bumbling around upstairs. The sink turns on. The sound of her voice as she hums. The heavy tread of her footsteps.
I think about howloudthe house feels now. Filled. For the past two weeks, when the kids aren’t here, Laura is. Sometimes even when the kidsarehere.
