My face must go through every shade of red, but I don’t move.
Jake taps my hip. “Come on, Rossetti. Scooch.”
“Okay.” I shift to make room for him in the bed. Jake lifts the sheets and slides in, facing me on his side.
“You want me to just lay here, or do you want me to spoon you?”
“Whatever you want.”
Jake leans in to whisper, his warm breath caressing the shell of my ear. “I’m not the sick one. If you don’t choose something, I’m going straight to spooning.”
“Fine,” I say with a giggle, turning to let him get behind me.
“You can’t be doing all this giggling, though. I’m here so you can go to sleep.” He says it like it’s a command, but there’s mirth in his voice. Like everything, this is another game. Then he softens his voice to some mix of that horse-coaxing tone and something a little sweeter, more clandestine. “Close your eyes, boss. I’m in charge now. You just relax. And if you don’t like something, just say it.”
Jake’s body heat presses against my skin as he aligns his front with my back.
“Same,” I say. “This is a little ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. Shut up. Relax,” he orders, but there’s a smile rather than harshness in his tone.
Jake’s breath tickles the nape of my neck and he’s propped up on his bottom elbow, surrounding my shape in the bed. His fingertips sink into the underside of my hair, rubbing against my scalp. His voice is soft and sweet and it makes my stomach all swoopy. “This okay?”
“Yes. It feels good.” I melt into his touch as he alternates massaging my scalp and petting over my sloppy curls. I love having my hair played with and, without meaning to, I press back into him harder. Jake’s little satisfied grunt is the kind of thing that would drench my panties if I weren’t so dehydrated. I try to change the subject. “Where’d you learn to make such good ponytails?”
His chuckle is quiet. “I used to have long hair. Part of my baseball player aesthetic.”
I peek at him over my shoulder. “Nuh uh.”
His eyes comb over my face and his lips curl up. “It’s good to see you smile again.”
My cheeks heat. “Hard not to smile at the idea of long-haired Jake. Bet you were cute.” I turn my face to the side and close my eyes.
“I’m always cute,” he objects.
“Must be nice,” I snort. “I’m sure I look ready for the ball right now.”
Jake’s fingers pause in my hair. His hand moves from my hair, coasting the pads of his fingers down my arm.“Don’t do that, Darcy. We both know you’re always cute.”
I go to swallow once, twice, my tongue suddenly too big. I cough and he lets out a sympathetic groan. “Poor thing.”
“I’ll survive,” I say.
“You will,” he says. “But it’s still no fun to be sick.”
I draw in a deep breath, enveloped in his scent of cedar and something spicy clean. “You don’t smell bad, by the way,” I yawn. “In case you were wondering.”
“Oh yeah? What do I smell like?”
I nestle closer to him, not so different from Stormy trying to get her scent on me. “Like you.”
He chuckles softly. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I surrender to his masterful snuggling, letting my body go slack. “There you go,” he coos.
“That feels nice,” I tell him as his featherlight touch continues up and down my arm. His touch is such a comfort, but it goes beyond the physical. It’s everything. Before I can think better of it, I speak. “I think I’ve been lonely. Missing tender touches like this. It’s an awful way to feel. It makes the rest of life harder. Scarier.”
Jake’s motions still for a moment, then his fingers make small circles on my upper arm. “It is awful.” There’s an audible gulp behind me. “Maybe let’s not let each other feel lonely. You’ll have me and I’ll have you. You come to me when you’re lonesome, and I’ll come to you.”
