Page 47 of The Warmth of Our Closest Star

That, too, made me feel better about everything.

Inside the front door, just far enough that we could close it, Peter and I dropped our bags and I immediately turned to wrap my arms around him. He greeted my mouth with his and moaned happily as I kissed him deeply. Peter and I stood in the entryway, kissing and holding each other tightly for several minutes, whispering “I love you’s” and other sickeningly sweet things to each other, surrounded by piles of bags.

“What should we do first?” Peter asked. “We probably need to wash all of these clothes so we can hang them up, right?”

“Later,” I cooed, kissing the tip of his nose. “First, we should go upstairs.”

Peter stared at me for a moment before the realization of what I was suggesting registered.

“Oh, yeah?” he said with a grin.

“I thought you might like to see the underwear I arrived in,” I said.

Peter chuckled warmly. “I can’t believe you’re here. Fuck. I’m so glad you’re here.”

I sighed happily.

“It seems so un-fucking-real,” Peter said, his arms tightening around me. “And you’re not leaving again. Ever.”

“Hey,” I said, “focus. Do you want to see my underwear or not?”

Peter laughed uproariously as his phone chirped. I didn’t let go of him completely, but I pulled back, my arms looped around his neck lightly, as he dug his phone out of his pocket. I sighed happily and stared into Peter’s face as he looked down at his phone, checking to see what had warranted the notification.

“Well,” Peter groaned, “bad news.”

“What?” My arms tightened around him.

“Not bad bad,” he said with a chuckle as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “I have to run over to the office.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” Peter pulled me against him playfully and kissed me. “Just a small issue. No big deal. But I can’t handle it from here. Do you want to come with me? It will only take a few hours. You can hang out in the coffee shop on the corner, and—”

“No, no.” I waved him off, letting my arms fall from his neck. “It’s okay. I need to wash these.”

I gestured vaguely at the bags surrounding us.

“That will take a while,” I said. “I can occupy myself with that.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving me another gentle kiss. “You’re not mad, right?”

“Of course, not,” I said. “It’s Friday. I will have you to myself for two days when you get back.”

“Damn right you will.” Peter sighed and kissed me again. “Okay. You know where everything is, right? For washing your clothes?”

Peter stepped over the pile of bags he had brought in as he reached for the door.

“Basement,” I nodded. “I’ve been here before, babe. I will be okay.”

“Call me if you need to, okay? I won’t be so busy that I can’t answer.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it,” he said as he swung the door wide. “If you need anything or have any problems, just—”

“Go!” I demanded with a pointed jab at the door. “I’ll be fine, Peter.”

He stopped in the doorway, his fingers loosely gripping the knob.