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Her free hand plants on my bare arm, rushes up, and pushes my shirt onto my shoulder. “Wearing short sleeves?” she whispers. “Big mistake.” Her teeth clamp into my bicep.
I can’t stop my laugh or my swear. Unfamiliar feelings go rippling through my veins. “Okay. Okay. What is with all the biting?”
Her lips smack as she nuzzles. “Boyfriends are delicious. I don’t make the rules. Don’t tell me it bothers you?”
“Just wondering if you’re taste testing for when you slow-cook me.”
“I absolutely am doing that. Got a problem with it?” Her foot finds mine. If I’m not mistaken, her toes are very adeptly pulling my flannel pajama pants up my calf. I can only imagine why.
“I don’t have any problems with it. I may like it a little too much, given our pre-marital status at present.”
Her freezing toes burrow under my knee once my pajamas can no longer protect me.
Cupping my free hand to my mouth, I turn my face away from her in an effort to contain my bliss.
I adore her. I adore her. I adore her. I adore her. I adore her.
Her fingers dip beneath my shirt, against my abs, and I have to catch her hand then. Breathless, I whisper, “Please. If you’re coming on to me…say so now.”
Her forehead rests against my shoulder. “It’s dark…” Painfully soft, she says, “I’m…trying to hug you.” A small breath runs against my arm. “For warmth and survival purposes only.”
“Of course. What other purposes are there?”
“I don’t know. Surely not any illicit ones.”
“Surely not.” I tug her arm and trap her in my embrace. It’s not my fault she winds up partially on top of me, her weight indenting itself in my mind for all eternity.
After all.
It’s dark.
Her hand fists in my shirt. “You’re not a very squishy pillow, Finn.”
“Am I more comfortable than the couch?”
“No.”
I sigh, and she rises and falls on top of me. “My apologies. What do I even have to offer to this relationship?”
She plants a kiss to my chest, through my shirt, and—tenderly—says, “Financial security.”
I murmur, “I suppose that’s valuable in this economy.”
“’Tis.”
I’m not entirely sure when our meaningless conversation ceases to be words. Perhaps somewhere around when I recognize that I can feel her heartbeat echoing mine. I lose count of the beats, then I lose my grip on consciousness.
By the time I wake from the dream, I’ve lost feeling in one arm and both my legs, but I haven’t lost her. So it’s a trade-off I’m more than willing to make.
Chapter 22
I’ve actually been wearing it secretly since November 1st…
– Marcella
“Get over it,” I say as I reach for another shiny red apple. My orange engagement ring winks in the sunlight, and Finn has been pretty much useless from the moment I put it on.
“Get over…what?” He drops the apple I hand him on the ground, not in the basket.
