“Got it?”
“Sure.” Sam was not sure, but her character was on the screen and moving around. She could do this. Let the button mashing begin!
Ten minutes later, Taylor hit the pause button.
“I’m terrible aren’t I?” Sam admitted with a wince.
“Look, everyone needs a little practice,” Taylor said diplomatically.
“I think I tired myself out rolling out the pasta with you,” she said, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn.
“Here. Don’t move,” Taylor said, stuffing a couple of big cushions in her place while she got up and switched over the games. “How about let’s see if you enjoy being my biggest vocal supporter while I whack things on the screen? You can help me figure out the puzzles along the way as a professional spectator?”
“That sounds much more up my alley,” she agreed. Nowthis, she could definitely do. As she snuggled back into Taylor, she couldn’t think of a time where she was instantly this comfortable with someone.
She mindlessly ran her fingers over Taylor’s jumper, trying to think of past partners. Aside from dates or casually seeing someone, there wasn’t anyone who came to mind who she’d hung out with like this. Even Alex, her closest friend, never did night time couch hangs with her. It was usually drinks out or brunch on the weekend. Maybe a walk together. But this was nice. Something she didn’t know she’d enjoy so much. So relax?—
Sam woke with a start at the sound of a door opening. She blinked, looking blearily around and saw Belle doing the same thing, her face turned toward the sound. Jess came into the lounge with a barely contained smile on her face. Taylor paused the game and gave her a small wave.
“‘Allo,” Taylor said quietly.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Jess half-whispered. She looked as tired as Sam felt, still in her waitress uniform as she trudgedthrough the lounge. Sam also gave her a half-hearted wave as she went past.
Taylor looked down at Sam. “Oh, you’re awake.”
“Yep,” Sam said, sitting up a bit. “What time is it?”
“Almost twelve.”
Sam’s eyes bulged. “How long was I asleep?!”
“Uhh. A while? I think you were pretty comfortable.” Taylor laughed softly, nudging into her.
“I should get going.”
Taylor put a hand on her leg. “Do you want to stay? Save yourself driving home tired. No fancy stuff, just sleep. I know we’ve both got work early tomorrow.”
Sam let out a yawn and nodded. “That actually sounds amazing. Can I be the little spoon again?”
“Can you get any cuter?” Taylor leaned in, kissing her on the forehead.
“So that’s a yes?” Sam asked hopefully.
“Yes, Ham. I’ll be the big spoon.”
“I hate that nickname,” she grumbled with a frown.
She loved that nickname. It would forever remind her of the night Taylor had looked after her, making sure she was home safe. It was such a stupid name. But it was hers.
While she’d been anticipating this night, she’d been picturing hot make-out sessions in the kitchen, against the bench or on the lounge, a movie completely forgotten in the background. What she did not expect was being so content having done none of that AND sleeping through most of their night together, though it didn’t seem Taylor minded one bit. She smiled at the thought.
The last couple of days had been a whirlwind, both at work and home. Her dad had responded to their offer, agreeing to most of their terms with a few compromises he wanted to negotiate on, like how long he’d have to stay on to help with the transition. With things most likely going ahead, she’dspent every waking moment figuring out whether to store her furniture while she was travelling or if she’d sell most of it and just start fresh whenever she returned. She didn’t have too much in the way of personal belongings, and anything left could probably be stored in her dad’s storage locker, which he kept for everything that didn’t fit on his boat. If it worked for him, it could work for her.
She’d decided not to tell Taylor the news just yet. she didn’t want to put the chicken before the egg, so to speak, until her dad was absolutely certain it was a done deal. Hopefully, just a few more days. She knew the time was ticking if it did go through, and had no idea what would happen with Taylor if it did. She snuggled back into Taylor. That was future Sam’s problem.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Taylor had never thought to actually sit down at this café. It was only ever for a quick takeaway coffee, then off to whatever boat or caravan she was working on. She took in the surrounding greenery, appreciating a family of magpies singing in unison close by—no doubt asking for a crumb or two—but she knew to ignore their calls and leave them to their worms. Human food would do them more damage than good.