She walked past me slowly, and called over her shoulder, “I’m claiming the remote.”
“You already did.”
She grinned. “Come back to bed. I want to finish that episode.”
I shook my head. “You’re serious about this show.”
“I nearly died,” she called from the bedroom. “You can’t argue with a girl who nearly died. That’s the rule.”
“That’s not a real rule.”
“It isnow.”
After I brushed my teeth and walked back into the room. She was already on the bed. The shirt she wore had twisted at her hip, revealing a glimpse of the white lace.
“I’m not watching a baking competition,” I warned.
She patted the bed beside her. “You’re not. It’s the decorating challenge today.”
“Worse.”
“Better. People cry over frosting. It’s high stakes.”
I sat beside her, against the headboard, arms crossed loosely.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m not emotionally investing.”
“That’s what they all say,” she whispered, flicking the volume up.
It wasn’t even five minutes before she leaned into me. Her head found my shoulder, and her hand landed on my thigh.
I didn’t move it.
“You’re warm,” she murmured.
“Good. Because you steal the blankets.”
“You drool.”
I turned my head. “I donotdrool.”
“I’m just guessing, I was unconscious, remember?” she said so sweetly, only to frown slightly. “I’ve never slept beside a man before. You were the first.”
I turned more fully toward her.
“Was it okay?”
She looked surprised. “Are you asking if I felt safe?”
I nodded.
She exhaled slowly and pressed her hand firmly into my leg. “I’ve never felt safer in my life, Vince.”
I touched her jaw, turned her gently so I could see her eyes more clearly. Every hour with her stripped another layer off me I hadn’t even known I wore.
“You’re dangerous, Madeline Thorne,”
“I’m high maintenance. That’s different.”
