Page 144

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Foster. I love you. I love you.”

He comes first, and the wet heat of him spilling across his stomach and my hand sends me over a few strokes later. I collapse against his chest, my body still vibrating with pleasure.

For a long minute, neither of us moves.

Then Fox lets out a wet laugh into my shoulder.

“We are covered in⁠—”

“I know.”

“You did this on purpose.”

“I did not.” I kiss him. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

He laughs harder. I press my mouth to his collarbone and stay there for another second before I peel myself off him.

“Don’t move,” I say. “I’m going to grab a washcloth.”

“Where would I go?”

“Nowhere. Ever. That’s the plan.”

“Correct answer.”

I laugh and go to the bathroom.

When I come back with the warm, wet cloth, he’s stretched out with his hands behind his head, watching me. I clean him up carefully, and when my eyes meet his, I can’t look away.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“You’re very, very hot.”

“I promise I won’t let it go to my head.”

“Are you saying the millions of adoring fans haven’t done that already?”

“I only care about one fan.”

I toss the washcloth in the general direction of the hamper and climb back into bed. He sits against the headboard, takes both mugs off the windowsill, and hands me one.

Then he pats the space between his legs.

I settle against his chest with the mug in both hands. His arm comes around my waist. His chin rests on my shoulder.

For a while we just drink our coffee.

Outside, snow is still falling. My apartment is quiet in a way it has never been on a Christmas morning. Usually, I’d be getting ready to go to my parents’ house to help my mom with the lunch preparation. Today, she knows I’m not coming until later.

I set my mug down on the windowsill and lean my head back against his shoulder.

“Fox.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you remember what you said last night?”