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“You love cars,” Nolan corrects, voice filled with mirth. “And you reeeeeally fucking love car history. After you saw that magical piece of shit-”
“It could fucking fly, turn invisible, and never run out of fuel!”
“-you went down a Ford rabbit hole I could’ve easily spent the rest of my life-”
“So, the next…what? Five years, grandpa?” I good naturedly goad getting new laughs out of Kipp and another swat from Nolan.
“Like I was saying…I could’ve happily-”
“You said easily before.” My teasing is met by another sexy hit.
“-never have gone down that rabbit hole.” His dark gaze falls playfully to me. “Unlike yours.”
There’s no stopping the lighthearted headshake that occurs. “Is this really how you fucking treat a lady, Mutt?”
“It’s how I’m treating you,” Nolan impishly bites back.
“Yeah,” more laughter, a sound I swear I’m becoming addicted to, escapes Kipp, “you walked right into that one, baby.”
The childish glare he’s shot is cut short due to his best friend speaking again, “And by the way, for the record, you’re bein’ treated like a fuckin’ queen.”
Disbelief drops my jaw. “What?! How?!”
“I complimented your cooking.”
“Backhandedly.”
“I’m currently rubbing your feet.”
“You mean my ass.”
“And I bought you something to show you how much I care.”
“While I do agree with the ‘If it requires pants or a bra, it’s not happening today’ statement on the classy hot pink coffee mug you brought home, you only bought it so that I’d stop drinking out of your favorite mugs.”
“That’s not true,” Nolan instantly argues prompting Kipp to tilt his head sarcastically to one side. “Fuck, alright. That’s not entirely true.”
“You did the same shit to me!”
“That’s because you weren’t ready for a big boy cup yet, Kid.”
This time laughter leaves us all, filling the room to the brim with so much joy it’s almost suffocating.
A lot like staying put in one place for too long, happiness is a foreign feeling, yet as much as I tell myself not to get comfortable with it, not to get accustomed to it, not to get attached to it…or them…that’s exactly what I’m doing every time they finish a hard day and I make them a hot meal.
Every night they stretch out on the floor to protectively sandwich me between them.
Every morning that they invade my shower or offer to let me take one first.
It’s insane to me that in just a week, I’ve managed to make myself at home here more than I have in the past at any place I’ve ever actually lived.
That includes all my apartments pre the frat douche remake of The Crush that I called my boyfriend for longer than I should’ve.
I know it’s wrong.
I know I have no right to make myself this permanent in a life I can’t live for much longer but what can I say?
It’s nice to pretend I can actually have happiness for longer than the time it takes to finish binge watching a season of Modern Family.
