Page 46 of Butterfly Effect

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Good to know I’m not special.” What was meant to be sarcasm sounded like spite.

“All women are special, Freckles. Don’t be jealous.” His forehead puckered with concern. “Haven’t you heard of aftercare?”

“Uh, sure, but…”

He snorted. “Did that motherfucker Vaughn never hold you after?”

I peered to the right, recalling bitter memories. “He wasn’t into it.”

“Ugh. What a prick.” Wade’s eyelashes stuttered closed, brows lifting with an entitled expression. “Too bad. I need cuddles.” He buried his nose into the crook of my neck and inhaled, tightening his grasp and forking our legs together.

Okay, fine. The idea of a beefy professional hockey player with the athletic prowess of a cheetah wanting to be snuggled is precious.

“Don’t you ever get attached?”

“Attachments stem from unfulfilled desire. Suffering follows. My desires are fulfilled. No attachments. No suffering.”

I scoffed. “Unbelievable. Did you just quote Buddha?”

“Please.” He let out a drowsy giggle. “It’s from the Bhagavad Gita.”

“Wade Boehner” —a yawn interrupted my wry introduction— “the philosopher.”

“Hardly.” A shush wafted past my ear, the firm caresses on the back of my neck lulling me into a groggy, relaxed state.

It felt too intimate to end after one night. But I did it anyway.

I blink twice to drive the memory away.

Wade stands with his arms folded across himself. The index finger of one hand rests on his Cupid’s bow. Studying. Scanning me up and down. A lump moves down my throat.

“So…?”

“So?” I parrot.

He glances at his watch. “I go to sleep early, but notthisearly. It’s only seven.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Since you’re staying?—”

“—Only to avoid the cameras?—”

“Right.” He nods to the left. “We could…see what’s on TV.”

“You wanna watch TV?” My finger points to my chest. “Withme?”

Wade rounds the sectional, never breaking our eye contact. “Isn’t that what real couples do?”

“But we’re not.” I clarify, “A real couple.”

“We can pretend.” He drops to the couch and gets comfortable, then calls over his shoulder. “Come pretend with me, Freckles.”

I huff but step forward, shimmying out of my coat and leaving it on one side of the sectional. “You think you’re so cute with that nickname.”

“You think you’re so cute with those freckles.”

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