I do.
Instantly, I’m hyperaware of her. The soft rush of her breath. The faint citrus scent that follows her everywhere. The heat of her body, suddenly way too close to mine.
And without permission, I do it. I make a wish.
I wish for this.
For her.
For now.
“It’s gone,” she says dreamily.
I open my eyes. “What did you wish for?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.
She traces small circles on the pillow. “If I tell you, will you make it come true?”
Hell yes, I will. I school my expression. “We’ll see.”
She brightens, sitting up. “I wish I knew what I texted you.”
“Huh?”
“When we were partying our asses off,” she explains. “I texted you. I think to say I was going to be late or something. But considering I was with you the whole time, and a little tipsy?—”
“By a little,” I say, “you mean totally shitfaced.”
She rolls right past it. “And I can’t remember a single word of it.”
“Why don’t you just look at your phone?”
“Because in my inebriated haze, at some point, I must have deleted it.” She wiggles her fingers at me. “Come on. Put me out of my misery. Let me see your phone.”
Not a fucking chance.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the shadowy figures of my team working their way around Connor’s room. Which means any second now I’ll get a status update. Maybe photos. Of her personal things.
“Hard pass.”
She blinks. “Seriously? Even if I swear to bypass all the dick pics?”
“Especially then.”
She exhales sharply. “Come on. Tell me what I said. Was it embarrassing?”
I don’t hesitate, and make up something on the spot. “You said lumberjacks do it best. That’s not embarrassing at all.”
She stares at me.
I keep smiling.
“Tell me what I really said.”
“You said beards are my spirit animal,” I tell her. “Then you followed it with a peach emoji. I thought it was a little forward, but I admired the confidence.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what I said?”
“Not tonight.”
