“More everything.” Sidney shakes her head, “But I don’t understand what more even means. She loved the archway, the aisle pieces, and the bouquets. She wanted a little more for the center pieces which, you know, fine, I can do that. But that isn’t the more she wants. What more can I do?” She beelines for the bags she dropped by the door and tugs out her design folder before she brings it back and drops it onto the table, flipping it open to the pages with her concepts.
The ideas are beautiful,art.The colors are lush; the arrangements filled out so no space is left vacant. It’s a mix of pinks and oranges, greens and whites, blending together to create this kaleidoscope of color that draws you in like a piece in a museum.
“What am I missing, Noah?” She stares at me with so much hope, but I’m drawing a blank. This isn’t my field;give me a computer and I’ll have it figured out, but flowers and designs and weddings?
She slumps onto the couch beside me with a loud huff, rolling her head toward me in defeat, “I’m going to fuck this up.”
“No, you’re not.” I say confidently, “You only saw them today; give yourself a minute to breathe and think.”
“This could make my entire career, Noah.” She moves to turn away from me, but I don’t let her, pinching her chin to keep her eyes on me.
“And if anyone can do it, it will be you, Sid. Look at what you’ve done already, what you have achieved. I am so fucking proud of you. Keep chasing those dreams, cricket, they’re right there for you.”
Her eyes soften as I move to cup her cheek, my entire body warming as she presses into it, nuzzling into the palm of my hand. “I missed you today.”
My thumb strokes across her cheekbone, “I’m right here.”
“Have you eaten yet?” She asks.
I shake my head, dropping my hand when she sits up straighter, already missing the feel of her. She climbs up off the couch and skips into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and fridge to pull items out. I can already tell she’s about to make mac and cheese, her go-to when she’s feeling stressed out like this, and I can’t complain. She makes a killer mac and cheese and has done since high school. I don’t know why it’s my favorite; it tastes just like any other version, but she’s made it and I won’t have it anywhere else.
She’s sleeping against my chest, her body curled up and pressed tightly against me, her soft snores barely audible over the music playing as the credits roll on the movie we were watching—well, I was watching. My girl passed out in the first twenty minutes and has been sleeping soundly since.
“Sid,” I gently shake her, but she just groans and snuggles in deeper.
A smile curls up the edges of my mouth and slowly, I extricate myself from her, switch off the TV and then slip my arms under her, lifting her off the couch. Her head immediately nuzzles into my neck, breath fanning over my skin. Goosebumps erupt over my body, and my arms curl just a little tighter as I walk her toward the spare bedroom across from mine.
I stop in the hall, between the doors, unable to move.
Putting her in her bed is what is expected. What I should do.
But I don’t fucking want to.
I want to know what it feels like to wake up with her. To have her face be the first thing I see when I open my eyes. I’ve slept like shit for days now, and I know what I need to fix it.
I already slipped up once tonight by calling her baby, the name rolling right off my tongue like it was always meant to call her that. What’s one more slip-up?
Fuck it.
I toe the door open and cross to my bed, gently laying her down on the sheets. She grasps them and brings them close to her face, curling into them while I head to the drawers to grab her a shirt to wear for bed.
She wakes just enough to help me take her clothes off. It feels so damn natural, like this is something we have been doing our entire lives. I fold her clothes and place them on the chair in the corner of the room before I bring the sheets up to cover her. She’s back asleep by the time I return from the bathroom, lying in the center of the bed.
There is no hesitation from me climbing in behind her, my body immediately curling around hers as I bring her back to my chest and place my hand right above her softly beating heart.
Pressing my lips to her shoulder, I let the feel of her sink right into my bones, into my marrow.
“Sleep tight, baby,” I whisper, my forehead pressing to her shoulder blade as I pretend this is real. That this is our forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Iam so damn comfortable right now, warm and the smell of Noah is wrapping me up like a hug. Arms tighten around me, pulling me tighter against a solid presence at my back.
Wait a minute…
I pry one eye open, noticing the familiar cream walls of Noah’s bedroom.
I’m in his bed. He’s lying behind me.
