Page 67 of Merry with Me
I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m here for you. Wherever you go, I’m going to follow.”
“Sweet Ollie is so agreeable,” she teases.
“I just like to see you smile.” That smile I love so much widens, and her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.
“Let’s take me and my smile to my room, so we have more space to stretch out.”
“You’re not going to hear me complaining about being cramped with you on the couch.”
She stops and turns to look at me over her shoulder. “So you’re going to complain about being in my bed?”
“Nope.”
She laughs and turns back around, skipping off down the hall. I make sure the door is locked and turn off the lights before following her.
“You can sleep in here with me or on the couch. The choice is yours. Oh, I guess I could also sleep in Isla’s bed and let you have mine.” She shrugs, like any of the options are viable when that’s not the case.
“I’m wherever you are. If I’m on the couch, you are too. If I’m in your bed, so are you.”
“There’s Mr. Bossy Pants.”
“I thought I was grumpy.”
She shrugs. “You have many layers, Dr. Thompson.”
“Where are we sleeping tonight, baby?”
“Here.” She points to her bed.
That’s all the confirmation I need. I take a spot on the bed, crossing my legs at the ankles and lifting my arms behind my head.
“Comfy?” she asks with a smile.
“Not yet.”
“What do you need?” She furrows her brow.
I tap the bed next to me. “You.”
Her only reply is a shy smile as she shakes her head. She does, however, turn out the light and crawl over top of me to lie next to me.
“Better,” I say, wrapping my arm around her and holding her close. She hits Play on the remote and gets lost in the movie, while I get lost in having her in my arms.
“You want to know a secret?”
“Yes, if it’s yours.”
She doesn’t raise her head from my chest. “That night with you on the couch, that’s the first time I’d ever slept next to a man all night long.”
My hand that’s playing with her hair pauses as I process her words. “How is that possible? You’re twenty-three, right?”
“Yeah,” she replies. “I’ve just never met someone who I felt like was worth my time, you know? Growing up, I witnessed so much love and devotion. I saw it every day in every couple in my life, and I wanted that. Iwantthat. Most of the guys I’ve met up until now, they weren’t interested if I wasn’t giving up the goods.”
No. There is no fucking way. She can’t be. “Assholes,” I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around what I’m pretty sure she’s trying to tell me.
She’s still looking at the TV with her head on my chest when she rocks my world with her words for the second time in a matter of minutes. “I know you don’t want more. You don’t want permanent, but I think you’re worth my time, Oliver Thompson.”
My heart feels as though it’s cracking wide open. So many years of pain and hurt have been locked away, and somehow, this tiny woman in my arms is making it all better. I try to find the words to tell her what it means to me that she thinks I’m worth her time, but they won’t come. The pain of my past lingers. The deception clouding every interaction.