“I thought you said I could?”
“Until morning, Reed Daughter.”
“Delaney,” I automatically corrected. We were still standing in the front entryway, and his couch and the tidy throws draped across it were looking pretty appealing right now.
“Since morning is only a few hours away, yes,” I said. “Until morning.”
“I see,” he mused. Then he stilled. “This would be considered asleepover?”
That’s when my muddled brain clicked together the clues. The look of anticipation he quickly smothered, the gleam in his eye, the slightly elevated breathing.
He was excited. This might even be what giddy looked like on him.
“Maybe,” I hedged, trying to look stern. “Do you have hot cocoa?”
“With pink mini-marshmallows.”
“Then this, Than, is a sleepover.”
He didn’t smile, but shifted his stance so quickly, the slipper spiders waggled their legs in panic. Than bowed slightly and extended his hand toward the interior of his home. “This way, Reed Daughter. I shall fetch a bottle to spin.”
“We really don’t need a bottle.”
“Oh?”
“It takes more than two people to play that game.”
“Ah.” He led me to the living room, gestured at the couches, then withdrew the controls for his media center from a side table drawer.
“Instead, we shall have to gossip. I am sure we have many judgmental observations to share about people who are not here. Or I would assume you do.”
“No, I don’t want to gossip.”
He lifted one eyebrow and waited.
“Tonight. I don’t want to gossip tonight. I don’t want to talk about anything. Or anyone.”
“Not even Ryder Bailey?”
I shook my head.
Hehmmmed.
Gods. Sometimes they really did know what we humans were thinking.
When I found the pillow next to me suddenly more interesting than his endless stare, he handed me the remote. “Choose a movie while I pop the corn and brew the hot cocoa beverage. Do you require leisure clothing?”
“No,” I said quickly. I did not want to know what clothing he might think was appropriate for a sleepover. “I’ll just kick off my boots.”
“Boots will be left at the door, please.” He walked out of the room. Spud scrambled to catch up to him, and when the dog matched his stride, Than’s long fingers found the back of his head and patted him softly.
Spud moved in even closer, gluing himself to Than’s leg.
I worked off my boots and left them by the door, then returned to the couch. I wasn’t really in the mood for a movie, but I scrolled through the selections anyway. When I found an old Danny Kaye I hadn’t seen in years, I queued it up.
I checked my phone while the sound of popcorn popping drifted to me on buttery, salty whiffs. No texts from Ryder or anyone else, so I set the phone on the side table, curled my feet up under me, and dragged the throw from the back of the couch to my lap.
“Here we are.”
