“What if you decide that you don’t want to live here anymore?” I say.
“This is my home. You’re my home, Ivy. And I’m done pretending like you’re not. You’re it for me. You always have been. And if you’re not serious about me the way that I am about you, or at least willing to try to be serious, then I mean it. I can’t do this. I can’t just date you. I can’t be casual.”
He takes my face in both hands, staring deeply into my eyes. It’s hard to breathe. Not in a bad way. In a way that I’m afraid ifI do take too deep of a breath, I’m going to startle him away and this entire thing will evaporate, like a dream, like a vision.
“I want you to, Caleb,” I tell him. “But I’m scared.”
“You’re allowed to be scared,” he says. “But you’re not allowed to stay that way. Don’t worry. I’ll prove it to you.”
He gives me a kiss, a sweet, gentle brush of our lips against each other.
“But first, you really need to brush your teeth. You taste like whiskey and hot cocoa and garlic knots and something truly awful.”
“I told you so,” Gunner says.
My familiar’s curled up on top of Caleb’s bed, his body completely wagging as we walk into the bathroom.
“Don’t worry, I seriously buy in bulk.”
“I actually really like the fact that you’re a penny pincher,” I tell him. “Really soothes my control freak tendencies to know that you also appreciate a good deal.”
Still, when he hands me a pack of thirty toothbrushes, I give him a look.
“They were like thirty cents apiece,” he says. “It was such a good deal.
“This is enough toothbrushes to last you for the next ten years.”
“At thirty cents apiece,” he repeats, “that’s a deal.”
“You’re not wrong,” I tell him. “Maybe I should be the one having you make all my supply orders.”
“What my girlfriend wants, my girlfriend gets,” he says solemnly, holding his hands up like he’s doing some sort of Scouts honor thing.
“You weren’t even a Boy Scout,” I tell him.
“I know, but it was really good for the effect, wasn’t it? Please brush your teeth before I throw up.”
I huff a laugh, roll my eyes, and squirt some toothpaste onto my toothbrush.
“We’re not gonna—” I say, the words coming out all garbled from brushing my teeth.
“I’m in the same clothes I was yesterday,” I finally say after I spit.“Everyone’s going to know.”
“Ivy, no one’s gonna know if you have the same clothes on. And if you’re that worried about it, just put on some of my clothes. Honestly, though, if the rest of you smells as bad as your breath — which it doesn’t, by the way, I did a very close sniff test a minute ago, one that escalated to a taste test?—”
“Caleb!” I scrub a hand down my face, feeling my cheeks turn bright read.
“You can just borrow something of mine.” He shrugs.
“Your clothes won’t fit me,” I tell him.
“Well, I’m sorry to say that I didn’t keep any of my ex-girlfriend’s things.”
“Are you trying to get me all riled up again?” I ask.
“Just goes to show that I really do like my girlfriend riled up. I like what happens after,” he says conspiratorially.
“You are too much,” I tell him.
