But I don’t let him go.
Not yet.
He sighs, rests his chin on top of my head. “It was time,” he says quietly.
I just hug him tighter.
Eventually, he draws back. “Popcorn?”
I nod. “Popcorn sounds good. You want me to mix up another cocktail to go with it?”
“That would be great, Stitch,” he says.
He moves to the kitchen, and I follow him, gathering my ingredients as he puts the bag into the microwave.
“So, why the sudden interest in skating?” he asks as it pops.
I pull a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, some lemons from the fridge, along with my homemade simple syrup. “It looks fun,” I say as I slice the lemons, as I squeeze their juice into the shaker. “And maybe…”
I want to be brave.
Take a chance.
Be myself.
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe I just felt like it was time to take a chance.”
I’m not talking about skating, and he knows it. Because he’s doing the same thing.
Our gazes connect, and as they hold, his goes soft.
Then he murmurs, “Proud of you for going for it.”
My lungs hitch. “Thanks.”
The microwavedings.
We serve up the popcorn, I shake and pour the drinks, and then we head back into the living room…only to find that my blanket has been taken over by kittens.
A chuckle beside me. “They’re demons.”
“Or maybe artists?” I say lightly as I set the glasses down and try to remove the pair of mischievous kittens.
Olive bats at my hand.
“Excuse me, little miss.” I scoop her up and cuddle her against my chest. “That’smyfabric.”
“Meow,” she protests, pressing her paw to my cheek.
“I told Chloe that we would make you your own blanket, remember?”
“She says make me a blanketnow,”Rhodes teases.
“Meow!” Pear agrees.
“Well, too bad.” I tap her on the nose. “I’m only one woman, and you’re going to have to wait your turn.”
