And by usually, I mean every night.
“Netflix, huh?” Bridger’s forehead lifts. “I think we can do better than a phone tonight.” He reaches for a remote on the side table and turns on the flatscreen across from us. It’s so enormous, I thought it was just a wall until now. Maybe it was a wall. Maybe Bridger Jefferson Adams made the wall disappear. “So. What are we watching?”
“We?”
“You’re the one who said we need to learn more about each other.” He kicks back and calls up Netflix. “Go ahead. Log in. I’ll keep you company until you fall asleep. In fact, this will make a great selfie. For my mom.” He lifts his phone to take a picture of us on the sofa together. I flash a smile, but my throat goes dry, when I realize what Netflix will prompt me to Continue Watching.
I gulp. “On second thought?—”
“Don’t be shy. Unless you were in the middle of something …” He wags his brows. “Forbidden.”
“No!” I blurt, snatching the remote. Then I input my username and password. If I’m going to live here for the next month, I might as well make myself at home.
The big redNpops onto the screen, along with the last show I was binging.
“Surprise Bride?” Bridger grins.
“It’s one of those married-at-first-sight shows,” I say. “And I’m not ashamed.” Okay. I’m a little ashamed. “But I watch it to remind myself why, after Foster, I am neverevergetting married.”
Bridger stills for a second, then he frowns. “I hate to remind you, wife, but …”
The reality sinks in again.
I’m sharing a sofa with my husband.
“What I mean is, I’m never getting married for real.”
“Noted,” he says. He nods at the TV, and I hit play,picking up where I’d left off the other night. Right in the middle of a wedding ceremony.
“The future husband and wife have just met for the first time,” I whisper.
“I get the gist.”
We watch the officiant talk for a minute. And I whisper, “Suzy Pantsuit was way better, don't you think?”
Bridger nods, but says nothing, his eyes intent on the show. At the end of their vows, after the rings and all the promises, the couple repeats the lines that end the ceremony for every single episode.
“I met you today,” the bride says. “And I’ll know you later.”
“I marry you today,” the groom says. “And I’ll love you later.”
Bridger smirks. “Love you later?”
“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “I tried to warn you.”
He examines my face, shaking his head. “That you did.”
And yet, he doesn’t leave.
Instead, when the next episode begins, he silently hands over a pillow to tuck behind me. Then he pulls a blanket off the back of the sofa to drape over both of us. And we stay like that, curled up on the sofa, side by side, until we finally fall asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Bridger
I can’t move.
Mostly because my wife is on top of me.