Page 26 of Sweet and Salty

My smile deepens as I follow him into the living room, him placing our treats on the coffee table in front of my couch before he makes himself at home.

Anddamnhe looks so good on my couch, one arm sprawled over the back as he looks up at me.

I settle in next to him, smiling after I grab a handful of popcorn. “Can I just say it means the world to me that you're acting so normal right now?” I ask. “Acting like you're here because of a simple Netflix and chill night, not because of what just happened.”

“Does it help if I tell you that if you ever asked me for a Netflix and chill night, I’d be here in an instant?”

“Yes,” I say before crunching on my popcorn.

He grabs his own handful. “Well then, invite me.”

I chuckle softly. “Owen, would you like to do a Netflix and chill night with me?”

He scrunches up his nose, his eyes bright. “I don't know if I can. I have a pretty demanding client, I'm not sure if I can get away.” His full, rich laugh follows the statement, and I playfully shove against his muscled chest.

“I am not demanding,” I protest, but he captures my second shove with one arm, tucking me against him as he smiles down at me.

“Of course you're not,” he says sarcastically, teasing me further, his actions doing everything to lighten the mood and chase all the fearful tension out of my body.

I make no move to pull away, instead lean against his side as I reach for the remote. “What are we watching? True crime, reality, or a movie?”

“Let's watch that reality show you were telling me about,” he says, and there's something so incredibly sexy about him making the decision for me—a profound sense ofreliefin him not sayingwhatever you wantand making me choose.

I'm all for choosing sometimes, but on a day like today? When decision fatigue is a real and heavy thing? There's something so fucking wonderful about not having to make a choice, no matter how small it may be.

I queue up the show, and we lean back, sipping our drinks and munching on the popcorn throughout the first couple episodes.

“I can see what you were saying about this,” Owen says after the third episode. “It's definitely a vacation for your mind, butdamnsome of these people are cringe.”

We both laugh, having already watched a couple of episodes through our fingers because of the secondhand embarrassment of all of the couples on TV vying for marriage on the reality show. It's guiltless entertainment, and one of my favorite pastimes. And I love that he's digging into it too.

Somewhere between the sixth and seventh episode my head hangs heavy against his muscular chest, his arm tucked around me warm and comforting....

I open my eyes, the sense of weightlessness jostling me slightly as I shift in Owen's arms. I blink a few times, my eyes heavy with sleep. He's carrying me up the stairs and into my bedroom, gently laying me on my bed and folding the covers around me.

My eyes are already closing as my head hits the pillow, this deep sense of comfort and safety wrapping around me like thewarm blankets settling over me. I feel him pull away and reach out to catch his arm.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, my eyes still closed as I feel myself sliding backward into sleep. “Please.”

“Okay,” Owen whispers, and it's only a few moments before he climbs in on the other side of the bed.

I instinctively shift toward him, snuggling up next to his powerful body, inhaling his scent and allowing his warmth to send me straight back to sleep.

CHAPTER 9

Owen

Iwake up slowly, something drawing me out of sleep. I’m not on alert, so I know it’s not a noise or something amiss, but as my senses return…

I’m in Zoe’s bed.

Zoe is tucked against me, her leg now over my hips as she’s flush against my side, her hand splayed on my chest and her head nestled into the crook of my arm.

Fuck, she’s even gorgeous while she sleeps.

She feels right in my arms, tucked safely against me, sleeping soundly without any worry of what happened earlier tonight. I’m so damn glad I can offer her that, which is why I made sure to stay when she asked.

Her hand moves on my chest, and I furrow my brow as I look down at her. Her eyes are still closed, but that hand is moving deliberately back and forth.

---