I’m not reading. It’s not even on.
I’m experiencing it all.
I should move him. I should thrust him right off me, but I don’t. I can’t. I miss having him on me. And I know I shouldn’t.
“They’re cute, right?” Sem asks Luke, who just nods.
Caleb wiggles on top of me a little and barks out, “This is not a matinee performance. There’s no popcorn here. You both need to leave.”
“So rude,” Luke says. “How Whit puts up with you is a mystery.”
“A huge mystery,” Sem agrees, rubbing his chin, and then adds, “How do you put up with him, Whit?”
I wet my lips and go for nonchalant.
“He grows on you,” I say, and Caleb elbows me a bit aggressively.
Luke watches us intently and then tilts his head. “You haven’t been home since you moved out. You avoiding us?”
Is that so? Why would Caleb avoid his family, ones who clearly adore him? I know why I avoid mine, but they deserve my absence.
“Jesus, I’ll see you all next weekend. We can catch up then,” Caleb says.
Luke and Sem stare at each other, wordlessly conversing before nodding.
“Fine. Bring Whit. Aunt Del’s request.”
“It’s like I’m in the mafia,” Caleb mutters, causing a true smile to form on my lips. “The only way out is death.”
Sem and Luke stand up in tandem, obviously done with whatever they came to see.
“So dramatic, this one,” Sem says, ruffling Caleb’s hair while Luke lightly punches his shoulder.
“No need to get up for us. You two look comfy,” Luke adds before moving to the door, and then they disappear behind it without a goodbye.
“Oh, Jesus fuck. How is this my life?” Caleb groans, turning slightly and glancing at me. All of that was a whirlwind, and Caleb onmy lap is the fucking cherry on top. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“What?” he asks when he spots my twitching lips. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” I say before pretending to read again.
“Put that down and tell me something,” he says, grabbing my Kindle and setting it on the arm of the chair. I feel slightly naked without it as a shield.
“What would you like to know?” I manage to ask. My fingers trace patterns in the cushion beneath us, a nervous habit from ages ago.
“How are you okay with this?” he blurts.
I debate that for a moment. Am I okay with it? Should I be honest or indifferent? I settle on, “It’s harmless.”
He meets my eyes, and the intensity there has me glancing away.
“Harmless? I amnevergoing to live this down. My family is insane. No matter what I tell them, they will stubbornly believe we’re together.”
“It’s sweet.”
“It’s obnoxious. Next thing you know, you’ll be marrying me and wondering what happened!”
Oh.