Okay, so we’re done with that conversation. I’m both relieved and not ready to move on. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “This game isn’t going anywhere interesting. I’ve seen all I want.”
“Same.” I hesitate before I pick up the remote and open the Netflix app on his TV, selecting a new horror movie I didn’t get to see in the theater.
Tate tenses. “This is what you want to watch?” He gives me an uneasy look.
“Yeah. Is that okay?”
He hesitates. “Yep.”
Weird. Okay. I hit Play and settle against the pillows.
A few minutes later, I look over. His eyes are closed, but his jaw is tense. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your eyes are closed.”
“I’m tired.”
That’s not it. “Oh my god. Tate. Are youscared?”
“No.” The corner of his mouth twitches. His eyes are still closed, though.
I’m really laughing now. “You’re afraid. You’re a little scaredy baby.”
His eyes open and he sees the girl on screen, crawling down the stairs, and it’s like his whole body shudders. “I’m the normal one here. Look at this. It’s not normal to like being scared, Jordan.”
Oh my god. Is it possible that this forty-year-old, two-hundred-pound ex-hockey player who can bench, like, three times my weight, is fucking adorable?
It is, and he is. He’s utterly adorable.
“Can we change it?”
I grin. “No.”
There’s a jump scare on screen and he jolts beside me while I dissolve into laughter.
“Stop laughing at me,” he groans into the duvet.
“I can’t help it.” He’s about a foot closer to me after that one. “Someone needs to laugh at you, Tate. It’s good for you. And this is so cute.”
“It’s not cute,” he says, face-down.
“Do you need me to hold your hand?”
“No. Maybe.”
“Are you going to have nightmares?”
“You’re having way too much fun with this.”
“You know what we should do?” I can’t hide the amusement in my voice. “We should find theCursedvideo and watch it.”
A pillow hits me in the face and I burst out laughing.
“What if I cuddled you?” I ask through laughter. “Would that make it better? I’ll even touch your hair.”
