Page 81 of Only and Forever

I nod.

His gaze holds mine. Slowly, he reaches for my hand and clasps it. “Then I’d say it’s high time we fixed that.”

Viggo tugs me up to standing, reaches, and opens the door for me. I grab our leftovers in my free hand, watch him shut the door behind us, and follow him inside.

He takes the food from me and sets it on the counter, dragging me with him. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles. “You couldn’t have asked a better person. I am the cuddle king.”

That sours my stomach. I don’t like thinking about all the people Viggo’s cuddled. My distaste for this news must show in my expression.

Viggo tips his head. “What’s that face about?”

“Nothing.”

“ ‘Nothing.’ Hmm.” He sits on the couch, then swings his legs up before spreading them wide. “Right here. C’mere, Lulaloo.”

“Right where?”

He pats the space between his legs.

I eyeball it skeptically.

He smiles. “Cuddles involve being close. That’s what you want, right? If not, we can just sit here on the sofa, side by side—”

“This is fine,” I blurt. Then I kneel on the sofa, spinning until I rest against him, my back to his front. I’m stiff, awkward, holding myself halfway through a crunch. Viggo feels it.

“Relax into me,” he says quietly, his breath warm, rushing over my ear.

I fight a shiver. “I’m heavy. My weight will be on you.”

“That would be the point.” He pulls me back. “Lean back on me.”

I do, at least more than I was, trying to believe him. Gently, he wraps an arm around me, across my collarbone, coaxing me into him.

“Trust me, Lu. I can hold you.”

Finally, I relax fully, the way I would into a bath. Viggo rests his head against mine, his jaw to my temple, and sighs deeply. “There.”

I shut my eyes, soaking up the rush of warmth, sweet and soothing, spilling through my veins. He smells like his woodsy soap, which I sometimes pick up, bring to my nose, and smell in the shower, like a lust-addled weirdo, the whisper of cinnamon sugar that I’ve traced to his beard oil. His arm is heavy, his bicep round and hard, straining against his shirt. I lift my free hand and trace a vein just beneath the surface of his skin.

He shivers.

“Sorry.” I drop my hand.

He picks up my hand and puts it back on his arm. “That was a good shiver.”

A smile tips my mouth. I’m glad to have my back to him. It feels safer this way. I wonder if that’s why he arranged us like this. I’m sure there are other approaches to cuddling that involve facingeach other, but this... it feels like a good way to learn the cuddling ropes.

“How you feeling?” he asks. I glance up and catch our reflection in the TV. A rush of self-consciousness that he could see me after all ebbs when I notice his eyes are shut, a peaceful smile on his face.

“Good,” I tell him, resting my head back on the curve of his shoulder. “You could be a bit squishier, but we’ll work on that. Give me some more time to make sure you eat lunch every day, and we’ll fill you in.”

“Be nice. Maybe I’m insecure that I’m not bulky.”

I roll my eyes. He’s gorgeous, and he has to know it.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me, Clarke.”

My gaze snaps up to the TV screen and our reflection, where I spot his eyes on me. He grins.