“Sweet dreams.”
The kid shuffles down the hall to the bathroom, then ten minutes later he closes himself in his bedroom with a wave and another mumbledgood night.
“He’s a good kid,” I say softly.
“The best,” Blair agrees. She fights a yawn, and my stomach drops.
“You look tired. Should I head out? You probably didn’t intend to stay up this late.” I want her to say no. To tell me to stay. But I also won’t overstay my welcome if she’s tired.
“Nah, let’s finish the movie. It’s more than halfway done, anyway.” Blair shivers.
“Cold?”
“A little.”
“Where do you keep the blankets? I’ll grab you one.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I offered, so just tell me where you keep your throws, and don’t be stubborn.”
I’m fighting a laugh when Blair’s mouth opens. She may act surprised or offended when I’m bossy, but I think she secretly likes it. About little stuff, at least. Something tells me if I tried to boss Blair around about anything big, she’d kick my ass.
“They’re in the basket over there.” She points to the window and the sideboard beside it.
I grab the largest, softest blanket and tuck it around her. Just as I’d hoped, there’s plenty of blanket left to cover me too. “Do you mind if I share?”
Blair sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “Of course not.”
When I settle in beside her, the cushion dips enough that Blair tips toward me. Using that to my advantage, I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from pulling away. Because she will pull away if I let her.
I’m pretty sure she wants me as much as I want her, but she’s stubborn. She’ll fight this.
“Might as well share body heat too,” I whisper against her ear, smirking when she shivers. Something tells me it’s not because of the chill this time.
“Right. Might as well.” It takes her a couple of minutes to relax against me, but I feel like I’ve won the lottery when she finally rests her head against my shoulder. She smells sweet and floral, and she’s soft and warm.
She feels right against me.
That thought should scare me more than it does.
“I used to have a crush on Bernard, when I was a kid,” she says.
The comment comes out of nowhere, and I huff out a laugh. “The elf?”
“Yeah. I mean, look at him. He’s cute for an elf.”
My body shakes as I hold her, my laughter quiet so we don’t disturb Reed. “If you say so.”
“I do. The ears really do it for me.”
“Noted.” I’m already trying to find reasons to wear fucking elf ears. That’s how I know I’m gone. Women like those faerie fantasy romance novels, right? People make whole balls and shit so they can dress up like their favorite characters and drink and dance, don’t they? Maybe I could find something like that and dress up like a hot fae dude. Or I could take her and Reed to the Renaissance Faire in the summer. I could find a cool warrior-type costume and add fake, pointy ears.
Jesus. I’m in trouble.
“After my parents died, I wished I had a magical snow globe I could shake, and they’d appear.”
Fuck, that’s sad.
