Page 92 of Here We Go Again

Same.

Becca

Want to hang out?

Theo

Yes. Yes I do.

Becca

Come over? Only to hang out, though. No funny business.

Theo

Funny business?

Becca

You know what I mean.

Theo

Do I?

Becca

THEO.

Theo

I’ve been waiting for eight years, Bec. I’m not expecting sex on our first night back together.

Becca

It’s a good thing. Because I think your mom’s room is right below mine, and this is what my bed sounds like…

Across the hall, Becca’s bed starts loudly creaking, and I burst out laughing.

Instead of responding, I stand and carry my phone across the hall, knocking once before nudging her door open.

“That bed is criminal,” I whisper. The moonlight streaming in through the window is just enough to illuminate the outline of Becca sitting at the head of her bed.

“Isn’t it?” she says as she scooches over. “I think it’s as old as the rest of the house. It’s surprisingly comfortable though. As long as you don’t roll over.”

I sit down beside her, leaning back against the headboard and stretching my feet out in front of me. She curls into my side, and I drape an arm over her shoulders as she tugs the covers up and over us both.

“Want to know something ridiculous?” she says.

“Of course.”

“I missed you,” she says softly. “We were apart, what, half an hour? And I could barely stand the thought of you being close enough to touch and … not touching you.”

Warmth spreads behind my ribs. It’s too good to be true. Her words, her presence, all of her. I can hardly wrap my head around it.

“It’s not ridiculous at all,” I say. “I was already on my phone when you texted me, trying to decide if texting you would look too desperate.”

“So desperate,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice.