You’re looking for trouble.
“What movies do you like?” I ask.
“Let’s watch your favorite,” she responds. “Then afterward, I can torture you with mine.”
“Which is?”
“Click,” she answers, and when I shake my head, she adds, “With Adam Sandler.”
“I don’t think I’ve watched it.” While I grab the remote and switch on the TV, I say, “We’ll watch yours first.”
“Hold on. Which one is your favorite?” she asks.
As I search for Kelcie’s movie, I reply, “Arrival.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s kinda sci-fi, but it’s very deep. The first time I watched it, the main plot went right over my head.”
Lick jumps onto the couch, trying to squeeze into the small space between Kelcie and the armrest. She scoots closer to me until our sides touch, then Lick flops down and uses her lap for a pillow.
Lifting my arm, I rest it on the back of the couch behind Kelcie. While she pets Lick, I find the movie and press play.
This feels too much like we could be a family. Me, Kelcie, and Lick.
As if my dog is trying to torture me, she turns onto her back, and Kelcie has to duck her head against me to avoid taking a paw to the face.
“Shove her off. She can go lie on the other couch.”
“No.” Kelcie glances up at me, and then she pouts. “She’s just getting comfy.”
Holy fuck. Kelcie pouting is too fucking cute for me to handle.
“Fine, but lean against me.” Not giving her much of a choice in the matter, I lower my arm to her shoulders and pull her closer.
I have to force myself to focus on the movie, and just as I get into it, Kelcie crosses her legs and turns into me. She lays her head against my chest, and I can’t resist trailing my fingers up and down her arm.
I lower my head and almost press a kiss to her hair but stop myself in time.
Watch the damn movie, asshole.
Somehow, I manage to get into it again, and when I realize it’s not a comedy but actually fucking sad and deep, I begin to realize why it’s Kelcie’s favorite. It’s about not taking anything for granted.
“I wish I had a remote like that, but instead of skipping forward, I want to go back in time,” Kelcie murmurs.
I don’t stop myself like I did before and press a kiss to her hair. I take a deep breath of her flowery scent, wishing I could make her mine.
When the credits start rolling, I say, “It was good.”
Carefully, Kelcie tries to lift Lick’s head off her lap, but my dog wakes up, and when Kelcie climbs to her feet, Lick also jumps off the couch.
“I’ll make some coffee and tea while you let her out,” Kelcie offers.
We head to the kitchen, and when I open the back door, a freezing wind blows through the room.
“Holy crap,” Kelcie gasps, quickly pulling up the zipper of my jacket she’s wearing. “Where did you live before moving to Verona? Did you have snowy winters?”
“I have a house in Grand Rapids in Michigan.” When a confused expression blossoms on her face, I explain, “I needed a change of scenery. But to answer your question, I’m used to snowy winters.”
