Page 34 of Catching Feeling

“I’m sorry about last night. I was trying to help, and I realize it came off like I was trying to use my money to fix everything. Like yeah, I do have money, and I wish you’d let me help you when you need it, but I understand that it’s not going to fix everything and that it was insensitive. I just… if you need me, for anything, Viv, I’ve got you, okay?”

I nod. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was so harsh. I was having a really shit day, much like today, and I just lashed out. I appreciate you offering to help, and it was really… sweet.”

His lip tugs up in a grin, and he shrugs. “It was nothing. And I wasn’t like waiting up for you tonight or anything. I mean, I was, but only because I was worried and I wanted to apologize for accidentally being a douche and I wanted to make sure you got home okay. Not like in a weird way or anything.”

He’s rambling like he’s nervous, so my brow quirks. “Apology accepted. I cerealously think the breakfast helped, ya know?”

Immediately, he catches the pun and lets out a raspy laugh. “Liked that, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t know that under all of these ridiculously handsome good looks and witty charm, I’m actually a master of puns. Specifically of the breakfast variety.”

God, he is such a cinnamon roll.

“You’re really on a roll with breakfast puns, Reese. I’m impressed.” I can hardly even finish my sentence because I’m laughing at how absolutely stupid that sounded, but he joins in, and suddenly, my stomach hurts from laughing.

I’m chalking it up to deliriousness from how exhausted I am. “Why’d you have a shit day?” he asks when we finally catch our breath. My eyes search his dark eyes, and I swallow at the genuine sincerity I see shining back at me.

In a way, Reese is the only person in my life right now that I can be honest with and not worry that it’s going to disrupt his life. I don’t have to protect his feelings or worry about him hovering over me like a mother hen. He’s the only person that I don’t actually feel like an emotional burden. He’s the only person I don’t feel any pressure to be “okay” around, and by chance of fate, he’s the only one who knows that I’m not.

I guess that’s why I find myself telling him.

“Just some family issues. I had to skip classes today so I could go home and take care of it, and I’m just kind of emotionally drained.” It’s vague, but it’s more than I’ve given anyone lately.

He nods. “I get it. What’s your comfort movie?” My brow furrows.

“Comfort movie?”

“Yeah, like, what’s the movie you put on when you just need to feel some familiarity? When you’re having a shit day and need comfort.”

“I didn’t even realize that was a thing. I mean, now that you say it that way, I guess I do have a comfort show, but I’ve never really heard it explained like that.”

Reese leans forward and grabs the streaming remote off the coffee table and extends it to me. “My sister and I have the same comfort movie, so we’d always go down to the theater in our house and put it on. Don’t ask me how, but that shit is magical.”

I take the remote and pull up Netflix, then put on the same movie I’ve watched more times than I can count ever since I was a kid.

“Matilda?” he asks, surprise lacing his tone. “Shit, I remember that movie. The books.”

“Yep. I always imagined I was her, except instead of reading books, I was writing them.”

“Not gonna lie, I expected it to be Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Shining or something,” he teases.

I reach over and push his arm, the hard muscle of his bicep not moving a single inch.

“Just because I love all things creepy and supernatural doesn’t mean that I don’t like other things too,” I respond.

I’m exhausted and hardly able to keep my eyes open, but I guess now we’re watching a movie. As it starts to play and baby Matilda appears on the screen, I find myself feeling less anxious. More relaxed. Even more sleepy.

I sink back into the couch and rest my head against the back as we watch.

Somehow, amid our conversation and settling in for the movie, we’ve each moved from opposite ends of the couch to somewhere in the middle. He reaches behind us to pull the thick cream blanket off the back, unfolds it, and hands it to me, his arm brushing against mine.

There’s nothing remotely sexual about it, but it still makes me shiver, and my heart picks up speed.

We probably shouldn’t be this close on the couch, watching a movie.

Not when we have firm boundaries in place. That’s not something two people who are just roommates should do.

But, I guess… it’s just a movie. Movies are harmless.

I pull the blanket tighter around me, my head dropping back against the couch, and my eyelids grow heavier by the second.

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