“I dreamed of it, you know,” she said, letting out a big yawn and leaning her head on my arm.
“Dreamed of what?” I really needed not to ask questions like that.
“You. Me. Pants off.”
Fuck.
I needed to change topics fast.
“Babe, you’re really drunk.”
“I wasn’t. When I was having those dreams,” she clarified.
“But you are now. And I know sober you wouldn’t want you to be saying this.”
She let out a sound that almost resembled a snore, then suddenly stretched across me.
I threw up my hands, not trusting myself not to reach for her as she did… whatever she was doing on the end table beside me.
It was right then that Sammy decided to reappear in the doorway. She seemed pleased by my gesture as Steph finally located what she was searching for—the remote—and dropped back down to her seat.
“I’m gonna put on‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’,” she told me. “Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“It’s great. Funny. And JTT,” she said, fanning herself. I had no idea what or who JTT was, but even Sammy agreed he was ‘dreamy.’ “You’re going to love it.”
“Babe, I can’t stay and watch it.”
“Why not?” Stephanie asked, her lower lip pouting even more than before.
“I promised Sam—”
“He can stay and watch it,” Sammy said, making Stephanie smile as she tried to read and type out the letters for the title. I glanced over at Sammy who mouthed and mimed to me:She’ll be asleep in five minutes.
The silent part didn’t need to be said. She would be back to check to make sure I went on my way once Stephanie was asleep.
“I need to get my eyes checked,” Stephanie grumbled, squinting at the TV.
I took the remote, pressed the mic button, and spoke the title into it instead.
“You’re so smart!”
“Yeah, fucking genius right here,” I agreed as she clicked the movie and the opening scene started.
Sammy was off by her estimate. But only by five minutes.
Ten minutes into the movie, Stephanie’s head fell hard onto my shoulder, out cold.
I let myself enjoy that sensation for a moment, the softness of her, the sweet scent of her, her hand resting on my leg.
Before I could let myself get too used to it, though, I slid a hand behind her neck, holding her up as I slid out from under her. Then I lowered her down flat on the cushions, glad I didn’t have to worry about her rolling onto her back on the small couch.
I was still tucking the throw blanket covered in candy canes around her sleeping body when I noticed Sammy standing in the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.
“How’s Andy?” I asked, brushing Steph’s hair behind her ear before forcing myself to move away.
“Empty. Sleeping. She’s going to have a hell of a hangover. Thanks for helping out,” she said as I made my way to the door. “These two can be a handful sometimes.”
