Page 93 of The Legend Next Door
“Oh, believe me, if you read the letters, you’d be singing a very different tune.”
He puts his head back on my chest, breaking eye contact and making it safe for me to tell him anything. Everything. “What kind of things do you write?”
I sigh long and low. “I write about things that have happened. Little things. Big things. Updates on Luca and life. Sometimes I have questions I know she can’t answer, but I ask anyway.” I tuck his head into the crook of my neck and run my fingers through his hair. “I’m thinking about writing her later to tell her about Luca’s tooth.”
“Hmm,” he hums. “You should. It was a milestone day.”
“I kind of want to ask what I’m supposed to do with a tiny, bloody tooth that contains our son’s DNA. Do I keep it? Do I throw it away? Where do you put things like that?”
“I have no idea,” he says, shaking his head dreamily. “I could ask Lissa if you like.”
I snort. “I’m almost afraid of what her answer would be.”
We’re quiet for a beat, and I take a deep breath, relishing the reassuring weight of Jeremiah’s body on mine.
“Thanks for telling me, Ben,” he says softly.
“Thank you for the surprise flowers. It means something that’s hard to put into words to see them next to her picture. And to Luca too. He mentioned it before he went to sleep.”
“God, you’re the worst, d’you know that? I can’t believe you promised me something stupid and then hit me with this. This isn’t stupid. It’s moving and self-aware and—”
“Darlin’, I was going through a drawer the other day, and I found a note to Liz that said, ‘Our new neighbor wears yoga pants,’ and to make matters worse, I’d crossed that part out, as if that made it better. Don’t come at me with that ‘it’s not stupid’ business.”
He screeches with laughter. “Yoga pants, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I have a thing for your ass. What can I tell you?”
Jeremiah looks as happy as I’ve ever seen him, batting his lashes and wriggling in my lap, stirring up good things. “Maybe I should start wearing them when I come over.”
“I hate to break it to you, baby, but if you come near me in yoga pants, you’re going to get a dick up your ass so fast it will make your head spin.”
46
Jeremiah Blake
Myalarmvibratesandstarts shrieking. It’s a vicious assault that jolts me from a deep sleep. Not just a deep sleep. A delicious sleep. One that feels and smells like Ben Stirling.
I’m happily knotted in a set of heavy arms and legs, and when I try to move, Ben pins me down and grumbles, “Five more minutes,” without opening his eyes.
Resistance is futile, and leaving him is torture, so I snuggle closer.
This close, he’s a blur. A beautiful blur of dark hair and a cleft chin. A strong jaw and a dusting of stubble. He’s sleepy and warm, more perfect than perfect. He kisses me blindly, missing my mouth and getting a cheek instead, then my nose, before finally finding my lips and nuzzling against them.
“Happy birthday, baby,” he mumbles.
I drift off and wake with a start. I have no idea how long I fell asleep for. The room is dark, courtesy of Ben’s new and improved curtains, but it feels late. Way later than it should be. Way later than I usually leave in the morning.
I dress quickly and tiptoe downstairs, carefully avoiding the third and ninth steps because I know they creak.
I’m nearly there, halfway down the hall, front door almost within arm’s reach, when I hear it, a bright, exceptionally cheerful, “Hi, Jelly!” followed by an equally, possibly even happier, “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Luca!” I fall just short of matching his enthusiasm due to the shock of being caught mid-walk of shame.
He’s wearing his dinosaur pajamas and his hair is standing up on one side. He cocks his head at me thoughtfully and says, “Did you and my dad have a sleepover?”
By the time Ben makes an appearance, there’s coffee brewing, pancakes on the stovetop that need urgent turning, flour all over the counter, and a splash of milk on the floor, thanks to Luca’s invaluable assistance in making pancake batter.
“Good morning, Ben,” I say stiffly. I’m very unsure about whether the way I’ve chosen to handle the situation is the right one. Ben looks as confused to see me here as he does by the state of the kitchen, so I quickly explain, “Luca was here when I got downstairs, and he asked if you and I had a sleepover, and I said yes, and he said that in this house we have pancakes on days we have sleepovers, and he asked me to make them for him, and I said yes to that too.”
