I hum. “Maybe one day I’ll publish myBook of Isaac.”
“Stop,” he moans, even as a smile makes his cheeks pop. “I can’t be the only thing you wax poetic about.”
“Well…” I clear my throat. “There was also your asshole.”
He blinks before shoving my shoulder. “That still counts as me. You have to have a poem ready for, I don’t know, the beauty of grass or something.”
“Am I Walt Whitman now?”
“He wishes. Come on. Give me something about verdant blades aplenty or…whatever.”
I snort. “I would, but all I can think about is flickering blue flames and lips I’m positive could show me heaven.”
Isaac tucks his face against my chest, biting lightly. His voice is muffled against my skin. “You’re a sap. A filthy, filthy sap.”
I kiss the top of Isaac’s head, my smile a permanent fixture.
Huffing, Isaac rolls to his back, wiping at his eye. “I really don’t want to move, but I need to pee.”
Taking the unspoken hint, I slide my leg off him and scoot toward the wall. Sighing, Isaac slips to the edge of the bed. When his feet hit the floor, he wobbles before catching himself on the mattress. I don’t say a word, but he glares back at me. “Not a single peep, you smug bastard.”
I zip my lips.
Isaac finds his footing after a couple steps, tugging on sweats and a t-shirt on rather shaky legs. Each time he looks back at me, I do my best to hide my smile.
With an eye roll I can practically hear, Isaac heads out of the room. He isn’t gone long, shuffling back inside a mere few minutes later.
“You’re going to let me lie on top of you,” he says, shutting off the lamp and climbing onto the bed. “And you’re not going to say a word about it.”
“About what?” I dutifully reply, lying flat so Isaac can get comfortable however he’d like.
He feels me out before patting my chest. “Atta boy.”
Isaac lets out a sigh as he settles over top of me, his weight not enough for me to mind sleeping this way. I slip an arm around his waist and fling the sheet up over the both of us with my other hand. “Night, Red.”
“Tomorrow,” he nearly whispers.
Maybe it’s in my head, but after the words I spoke to him earlier, thattomorrowfeels very much like a promise.
Chapter 15
Isaac
Todd grins at me as I grind coffee beans, taking a little longer than necessary just to avoid his all-too-knowing gaze.
Finally, I have to admit the coffee is as ground as it’s going to get. I empty it into the filter before closing up the machine and punching theonbutton.
Todd is still grinning.
“What?” I moan.
“It’s two in the afternoon,” he says chipperly.
“And?”
“And you’re making coffee. Which is the very first thing you do when you wake up.” He tilts his head, considering. “Unless you’re going to the library. Because you like their coffee better.”
“Your point?” I ask, ambling to the cupboard for mugs.
