I press my lips into a hard line. She knows exactly how to make that damned puppy face, and how to use it to manipulate me.
“Fine. Sleep here. I’ll take your room.”
Before I can move, she darts forward, sitting up and catching both my hands. “Please sleep here, Zoan.” And there it is again, that stupidly adorable puppy face.
“You’re overusing that face,” I grind out.
She grins wider. “I’ll stop using it once it stops working.”
I exhale sharply. “I’ll sleep here. But only if you promise not to touch me.”
She lets go of my hands, moves back, and starts lining pillows between us.
Then she flops onto the far side and announces with a satisfied sigh, “I’ll sleep here.”
Is this another one of her games? She is the most unpredictable person I’ve ever known. If it had been anyone else—someone I’d spent this much time observing—I would be able to predict their future a year in advance. But ask me what this woman will do ten minutes from now, and I’ll have no answer.
I lie down on my side of the pillow partition. She clutches the pillow between us, watching me with thatsmile that always heats up my chest and makes me think I’m the luckiest bastard alive to be the reason behind it.
“Can I hold your hand?” she asks softly.
I shift onto my side, placing my hand on the pillow in front of her. She snakes her forearm around mine, sliding her fingers beneath and locking them with mine, then lifts my hand and rests her cheek against the back of it.
I meant to give her my hand to hold, but she ends up hugging it instead. And I’m sick enough to enjoy it, even when I know I should be keeping my distance. The bitterness of what I’m going to do to her in the days to come burns in my throat.
But that’s for another day. Tonight, I’ll let myself watch her fall asleep with that smile still glowing on her beautiful face.
Avira
I wake up with a frustrated groan. I’m hugging the pillow, the partition still lying perfectly in its place. I had planned to move the pillows aside and wrap myself around him, but somewhere between pretending and waiting, I actually fell asleep.
A grin spreads across my face as last night’s experiment flashes in my mind, the glorious result—that massive bulge in his sweatpants. My cheeks heat upinstantly. I fan my face with both hands, giggling under my breath. He must be huge to pitch such a tent.
Sliding out of bed, I step out of his room and into mine, practically dancing and humming with triumph. I snatch my phone from the nightstand and type a quick message to Wen.
Me: ‘The result is positive. The prize was a huge tent.’
Her reply comes almost instantly.
Wen: ‘Hehehe. I told you. Now?’
I bite my lip, grinning like an idiot.
Me: ‘More unintentional encounters.’
Wen: ‘Lol. Poor Z.’
Laughing, I toss the phone onto the bed and twirl my way into the bathroom.
After freshening up, I head downstairs toward the dining room. But before I can reach it, I hear voices coming from the living room. My steps quicken. As the tones become familiar, my heart leaps.
And then I see them, standing with Zoan, deep in conversation.
“Daddy! Mama!” I cry, joy bursting from my chest as I run toward them.
Daddy catches me easily, lifting me into a big twirl. “My little pumpkin.”
He sets me down, and I lean up to kiss the scar on his cheek that Mama gave him. Then I turn straight into Mama’s arms.
