He’s been playing more since then.
I’m thinking about that when his eyes open. They’re the kind of dark that doesn’t really have a color until the light hits them. Brown, maybe. Or some deep shade that looks almost black when he’s tired.
He blinks once, then turns his head towards me. The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Watchin’ me sleep, Fawnie?”
My cheeks heat instantly. “No.”
His eyebrow lifts. The smirk turns real. “Liar.”
“I’m not a liar,” I mutter, even though I absolutely am.
He rolls onto his side, closer, and his hand slides over my hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he’s been doing it forever.
His palm is warm. I look at those fingers. Long, slim, and imagine them playing my body like he plays the piano. I know he’d been scared to try in case the scars on the back of his hands affected his playing, but if they did, it was minor.
“What time is it?” I ask, mostly because my brain needs a job.
“Morning,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “That’s the time.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he leans in and kisses me before I can. When he pulls back, he studies my face in that quiet way he has.
Then he says, “I got a surprise for you.”
I grin because I can’t help it. “I thought you didn’t like surprises.”
He exhales through his nose like he’s bracing himself for my reaction. “Yeah, I don’t. But I want to do something special for you.”
“That’s nice, but you don’t have to.”
“Why?” His eyes narrow playfully. “Do you think it will be an unmitigated disaster like the symphony? Don’t worry, for what I’ve got in mind we won’t have to worry about ignorant assholes who don’t like bikers.”
I groan and flop back onto my pillow remembering my great idea. That turned out to be not so great. Though then ended up being actually a really nice evening… Once the drama had subsided.
He laughs, and the sound does something to my insides.
I press my hand to his chest to hold him off—not because I don’t want him, but because if he kisses me again, I might never leave this bed. “I mean that I’m happy doing anything with you. Every time I’m with you is special. I don’t need a grand gesture.”
“I know.” His expression turns earnest. “It’s not a grand gesture. In fact it’s pretty boring.”
“You’re really selling it to me,” I joke.
He pauses, then says, almost casually, “I thought you might like to go to Willa’s antique store.”
My brain stalls.
My body, however, reacts instantly—my head shoots up so fast I nearly headbutt him.
“What? Be seen together?”
He looks almost shy. “She and Atlas were at the club when I went yesterday afternoon and Atlas was giving her a hard time about buying up the entire contents of a locker filled with old clothes.” He tilts his head. “Dead people’s shit, he called it. Anyway, Willa said you might be interested, there’s some genuine treasures… apparently. She said to tell you that you get first dibs before she puts it on the racks”
Then I squeal. I actually squeal. “Are you for real?” I grab his face with both hands. “That would be amazing!”
His eyes soften again, something warm flickering through the darkness. “Yeah?”
“Yes!” I kiss him hard and fast, then kiss him again, then press my forehead to his. “That’s the best surprise. That’s literally the best surprise.”
“Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t sure.”
