Try as I might, I can’t fight the smile. “Yes.”
Drew’s expression is mock disapproval, and it’s everything I can do not to laugh. He executes a slow nod, and I can tell he’s trying pretty hard not to laugh, too. “Sure. Great. I just have one thing to say.”
“What’s that?”
He presses a kiss to my lips. It’s not quick. It’s not slow, but it is gentle and chaste. He draws back and looks down at me. “The next time we go out, I get to pick the restaurant.”
Gemini leaps in gravity-defying circles when Drew and I tiptoe into the Mayfield’s house.
“Okay, okay,” I hiss whisper, stroking my hands down his long back as he whines his relief and excitement. “I know. I know. I was gone all night. How inconsiderate of me.”
I hear Drew sniff a laugh behind me as he shuts the door.
“Come on, buddy.” I turn toward the kitchen, and, elated, Gem bounds ahead, aiming for his food bowl. I’m relieved to find the kitchen empty, so I hold a finger to my lips, and Drew nods in response.
After I fill Gemini’s bowl and he dives in, I grab Drew’s hand, and we creep down the hall into the Mayfield’s guest room. I’ll admit, it’s kind of a disaster. The closet in this room is small. Smaller than my own at home, so what clothes couldn’t fit there are stored in the plastic bins that line the wall.
Well, that aresupposedto line the wall, but signs of last night’s excavation in search of my dress and shoes are everywhere.
“Excuse the mess,” I whisper, bending down to pick up the scattered pairs of shoes. I toss them into one of the open Rubbermaid bins, and without a word, Drew grabs two more pairs and sets them gently inside.
I glance up at him. “Thank you. I’m not a neat freak or anything,” I tell him, blushing. “But I’m usually more organized than this.”
Drew’s brows draw together. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly.
I blink hard. “Because I don’t want you to think I’m a slob.”
“Do you think it would bother me if you were a slob?”
He stares at me. I stare back. I’ve been in his room twice now. His place is spartan. He doesn’t have much, but what he owns is organized and clean. And I saw no sign of disarray in the garage where I found him last night. No tools haphazardly abandoned around the car. No mess from spilled oil or trashed parts.
Drew is neat and orderly. But even as I know that, I know too that he wouldn’t give a damn if I were a slob.
“No,” I say simply.
He gives me a slow nod, eyes glinting. “Then don’t apologize to me, Guppy.” His voice is low, but I know it’s not just because he’s trying to be quiet. “Any man would be lucky as hell just to be in the same space where you lay your head.”
His words pull strings inside me I didn’t know were there. I feel like a pair of lace-up boots. Tall. Held-together. Kickass.
I drop the plastic lid I’m holding, stand on tiptoes, and pull him down to my mouth. His hands land at the small of my back, and he holds me close, accepting my kiss, letting me thank him for sharing thoughts that turn me inside out.
I step back but keep a hand on his cheek, brushing my fingernails lightly over his stubble. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”
He nods again and then watches me as I pull a top from one bin and a pair of jeans from the closet. I move toward the bathroom and gesture to the bed, the only place to sit in the small room. “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”
I slip into the bathroom and close the door behind me, leaving him standing there, his breadth and height seeming to take up the whole space. I catch my smile in the mirror over the sink and stare into my own eyes.
So this is what I look like when I’m in love.
Last night’s shower removed my makeup, but my cheeks still wear a flush. My lips bloom with the soft bruising of Drew’s kisses. It suits me, and my smile grows.
I used Drew’s mouthwash before bed and after I got up this morning, but I reach for my toothbrush like it’s a long lost friend. As I brush, I think about the day that lies ahead. Tribe isn’t that far. The weather, for once, is cool and dry. We could ride bikes. I’ve moved mine to Janine’s garage, and I know James has one I doubt he’d mind us borrowing. I don’t know how much time Drew is willing to give me today, but riding bikes to breakfast would mean that much more.
Liking this plan, I unravel the rope of my braid and rake my fingers through my now zig-zagging curls. If we’re going to ride bikes, I’ll need tame my hair with something, but the dry air is being kind, leaving me with no frizz in sight.
I change into a three-quarter sleeve Henley. I check my reflection and decide the spruce green brings out my eyes. I pull on the jeans, and I’m still buttoning the fly when I step out of the bathroom.
“I was thinking we could ride bikes to—”