His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I don’t think I like it when you call me Tatum. It…makes me feel like you’re m-mad at me.”
I can’t help the tired laugh that bursts from my lips. Swatting at his chest playfully, I sit back up, shimmying out of my sweater and tossing it to the ground.
“Let’s sleep,” I tell him.
Tate gulps as he takes in my bra, his eyes trailing further down my body as I stand up to discard my jeans next.
“Now? T-together?”
He’s quickly sitting up to reach down for his boxers on the floor as I snag his hoodie and slide it on, almost like he’s just now realized that he was still fully naked in my bed. Inhaling the smell of his cologne, I nod at him with a small smile.
“Unless you want to go back to your room?—”
“No,” he interrupts swiftly, “I’ll stay.”
My smile deepens at that, and I hop into the bed as I pull back the comforter and bury myself underneath it. Once he’s done pulling on his boxers, he’s sliding under the blanket with me, his warmth immediately radiating toward me. He keeps a small gap between us, like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to touch me, and then I realize I should’ve given him some reassurance after what just happened.
Jesus, I suck.
“Tate,” I whisper.
He tilts his head down at me. “Yeah?”
“You gonna stay over there?”
The way his face lights up makes a warmth spread through my chest, too. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s very gently pulling me to his chest, wrapping his arm around me, and pulling the blanket up further until we’re bundled up and cozy.
I fall asleep to the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TATUM
Sunday, December 26th
Waking up this morning with Maeve wrapped in my arms for the second time is different from the first. This time, she’s so entangled with me, like I don’t know where I start and where she ends. Even her legs are intertwined with mine. She snores softly, her cheek pressed up against my chest in a way that has her face all smushed, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more adorable in my life.
She’s perfect.
Last night was perfect.
I think I like her so much that the oxygen has a hard time squeezing into my lungs just thinking about it. I like her so much that my chest feels full. Full of overwhelming, heavy feelings for her that bring a smile to my face. I see her, and my heart swells, I swear it does.
My fingers brush her hair from her cheekbones very softly as I sit with my thoughts, studying her features as she stirs faintly from my touch. Her lashes flutter open weakly, her dark eyes squinting as they adjust to the light, blinking a couple of times before they’re meeting mine.
Her pupils dilate as she looks at me, and I think I might die. It could be from anything, at least, I try to tell myself that. But I also know that your pupils dilate as a physiological response linked to the release of hormones associated with attraction and pleasure. The body releases oxytocin and dopamine when you see someone you like or love. I know that, and for some reason, my brain still tries to talk me out of it. Make other excuses for it.
Her eyes are just still adjusting, is all.
She goes to speak, but then she covers her mouth to mumble against her hand. “Oop. Morning breath.”
Maeve goes to pull away, but I tighten my arm around her, my lips tugging in the corners as I watch her squirm teasingly.
“I’ll hold my breath,” I joke, and she swats at my chest with a snort.
The sound of her laughter as she gets out of bed to hurry to the bathroom makes me laugh. I prop my arm behind my head as I lay there, watching as she brushes her teeth in front of the mirror, hair messy from sleeping and clothes in a disarray from being wrapped up with me. I must be staring too long, because she turns her head and meets my gaze with a sheepish grin.
Walking to the doorframe, she props up against it with her toothbrush in her mouth.
