I’m finally on the cusp of sleep when the precious woman beside me stirs. She turns and ends up snuggled into my side, her hand resting lightly on my abdomen. A small sigh escapes her followed by a word that despite being little more than a breath, causes my heart to stop and restart at a furious pace.
“Malcolm.”
I’ve never been more awake.
35
Makenna
I’vealwaysbeenasnuggler. My mom and I shared a bed until I was twelve, and boy did I have a hard time adjusting when I moved to my own room. I eventually became used to it, but until now I didn’t know how much I missed it.
It only took a split second for me to fully awaken and realize where I was and whose arms were around me. You know the joy that cartoon princesses wake up with? They’re singing and dancing, and birds are flying around them. They’ve woken up beautiful, and probably have fresh breath … which doesn’t really apply here … but otherwise, I feel like that princess. Though, instead of dancing, I’m lying here stock still. I want to soak this up before Malcolm wakes.
I’m pressed against his chest, tucked under his chin, and boycould I get used to this. He has an arm under my neck. And the other on my back pressing me against him. I thought muscles were supposed to fully relax in sleep.
Apparently not Malcolm’s. At least not right now.
I wonder how long we’ve been like this. And how we got this way. I distinctly remember falling asleep facing away from him, so obviously there was some movement on my part. I hope I didn’t bother him coming over here. But would he be holding me like this if I had? I’ve got to talk with him. Today. No, now.
“Malcolm,” I whisper.
No response.
“Malcolm.”
Still nothing. I wiggle myself back enough to see him. The soft morning light on his face and tousled hair make me pause my efforts at waking him. He looks so content, and as handsome as I’ve ever seen him. This close I can see a small scar at his hairline. I wonder how he got it.
I slide my hand from between us and lay it on his cheek, and once again whisper, “Malcolm.”
He moves slightly. Success. Then he takes my hand from his cheek and places a slow kiss on my palm. “Five more minutes.”
I’d laugh at the request if I weren’t utterly shocked that Malcolm’s lips just touched me. Is it because he’s still mostly asleep? He wraps his arm back around me, pulling me tight.
“Malcolm, you need to wake up.”
His eyes fly open and search mine. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken so urgently.
“I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong.”
He seems to realize how we are lying, and I decide he must have been mostly asleep when he kissed my palm. “Oh, no. You’re upset about … this. I’m so, sor—”
“No, Malcolm. I’m not upset. I just have a question.”
“You have a question? Okay.”
“Do you …? Well, I’ve been wondering … and if the answer is no, that’s totally fine … but do you have some … feelings … for me?”
Malcolm brushes a hand down my hair. “You’re kind, and funny, and smart, and so bonnie it makes my heart ache. I’d be a dunderheid not to.”
Call me if you can get your butt to a reasonable size again.
I swallow. “Really?”
“Oh, aye. I’ve never meant anything more.” He’s absentmindedly sweeping his thumb back and forth between my shoulder blades, and I fight a shiver.
“You think I’m pretty? Malcolm, you’re so far out of my league.”
