Page 44 of Since Day One

I launched myself forward off of his lap and sprinted around the coffee table to hide behind one of the recliners.

“Gunnar!” I squealed as he scrambled up the side of the chair and jumped over it, landing in front of me as I turned around and ran. He barely missed my wrist as I crashed into the bedroom attempting to slam the door between us. But Gunnar was faster, and pressing his hand against the middle of the wood prevented me from being able to close it all the way.

Slowly, I backed away from him as he marched into the room, looking surprisingly scary in just a pair of shorts he’d put on before he’d read to me last night. He tilted his head in a predatory fashion as I realized I’d cornered myself, and a sly grin stretched slowly over his face. Lunging forward with a growl, he wrapped an arm around my waist and hoisted me off of the ground while I squealed.

Slamming me down on the bed, he crawled on top, straddling me between his thighs and pinning me against the quilt as I tried curling up into a ball while attempting to block his attack of tickling. But it was no use. He was bigger, stronger, and absolutely determined. My squeals turned to giggles as he peppered me with his assault. My giggles turned to wheezes as I struggled to catch my breath, and he slowed, eventually stopping and dropping beside me on his back.

Hands to our chests, catching our breath, we stared at the ceiling light that wasn’t on. I was happy. Simply being here with Gunnar as the day was coming to a close, made me happy. My face ached from smiling and laughing so much, and it didn’t seem fair that I found this much peace and joy in a place that was only temporary. I felt the black dog nip at my heels with the thought that, at some point, I was going to have to face my family, knowing the bubble we’d disappeared into was going to burst. A dread I wasn’t wanting to face.

So, for now, I decided to pretend that this would never end, that it couldn’t end. Rolling onto my side, I pressed the full length of my body up against Gunnar’s and slung an arm and leg over him. He wrapped his hand around my shoulder and began slowly playing circles with his fingers up and down my exposed skin.

“I don’t want this to end,” I whispered, forcing out the confession that had been laying heavy on my heart.

He painfully smiled, his eyes locked onto the ceiling. “Me neither, Princess,” he muttered, and we laid there in each other’s presence, feeling silent exhaustion falling over us like a cloud.

Gunnar eventually flopped his head in my direction and sighed. “I hate to be that guy, but I don’t think my old man back can take a third night in a row on that couch.”

I giggled. “This bed is definitely wayyy more comfy.”

He closed his eyes and buried his face into my insanely messy hair. “Let’s go read for a little bit and then head to bed.” I nodded in excitement and slid out of his embrace, ready to walk right back to the couch that had turned into our most inhabited spot.

I sprawled brazenly out on the couch, flopping one arm behind my head that was propped up on a pillow.

Gunnar followed me into the room, holding two different novels he snagged from the closet for us to pick from, and then paused. His eyes raked over my figure with unfiltered awe. I blushed, feeling a little confused as he remained frozen in time; the only part of him that was moving was his chest, which was rising faster and faster.

“Gunnar?” I whispered, which caused him to blink, and then he suddenly tossed the two books onto the coffee table.

“Don’t move,” he gruffly commanded, then he disappeared back into the bedroom. I remained still on the couch, confused as to what was going on but heeding his words. Worry coursed through me that something was wrong and, if I moved, I would be hurt.

Gunnar jogged back into the room and slid across the floor on his socks. I giggled, and he glared at me. “I said don’t move.”

“Sorry,” I quickly replied, freezing again, and he held his phone up, pointing it at me. “What are you doing?”

He slyly grinned. “Close your eyes, lean your head back slightly, and pull your hair out of the bun.”

I stared at him, unmoving. “What?”

“Come on.” He urged, gesturing at me with one hand. “Oh, and raise one leg slightly.”

Still confused, I bent one leg and then closed my eyes. Slowly, I leaned my head back, and then with the hand that I’d propped up underneath my neck, I pulled the hair tie out. The wavy locks unraveled down the backside of the armrest, and I ran my fingers through the hair to smooth it out more.

Waiting one more second, with not a sound passing between us, I opened my eyes and sat back up. Gunnar was grinning foolishly at his phone entirely unaware of what I was doing now. His eyes were filled with a desire that oozed from every pore of his body.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, staring at his phone for one more moment, then locking it, placing it on the coffee table before grabbing the two books and sliding onto the other side of the couch. He patted the space between his legs, waiting for me to crawl toward him, but I didn’t move.

“What was that?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest, and he grinned.

“Nothing.”

“That was not nothing. What did you do?” I demanded, and he rolled his eyes.

“Something that was too good to pass up. Now, get your cute ass over here and pick the book,” he demanded, and I knew from his tone that he would not break. Grumbling, I crawled over and laid down against his chest, slipping my hand into his boxers as he read the backs of the two books.

We picked a mystery novel this time, and he began reading. This was the thing I wasn’t ready to lose—the comfort that I got from listening to him speak, and how he held me close without any expectations for anything more than just me being there. I was afraid of what might happen when I lost the physical touches he’d showered me with; it was unlike anything I’d experienced from anyone before. More than I’d ever experienced in my entire life.

Except maybe from Sally. She was a hugger. But this was a different kind of physical touch.

My eyes felt heavy as he finished the last sentence on the page. I knew it was over for tonight. But tomorrow was a new day to bring another book to read. That was the hope I clung to as he closed the book and placed it on the table. His fingers traced across my back, both of us refusing to move.

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