Page 192 of Falling Backwards
“I definitely should have,” he disagrees.The look in his eyes turns his smirk downright mischievous.
And I don’t know what I expected the surprise to be, but discovering that it’s him having bought himself another pair of sweatpants so I can wear them while he wears his is damn perfect.Learning he already washed them so I can put them on after my shower is somehowmorethan damn perfect.
I wonder how it is that I can feel so at home when I haven’t spent much time here at all.
Then we start talking about us being in the fitting room the day he bought his first pair of sweatpants, and we joke and laugh and he kisses the blush in my cheeks, and I don’t wonder anymore about this feeling of being at home.It actually makes total sense.
It’s not where I am that matters.It’s who I’m with.
—
On one hand, the easy passage of time with Luke is fun and pleasant, but on the other hand, I’m disappointed it’s going by so quickly.
It seems like I blink and my first night staying with him—well, it’s technically my second, I guess—is over and we’re once again waking on his couch in the sunlight.I blink again and our snuggling has somehow turned into being immersed in the day with a walk around his apartment complex and food and a trip to the grocery store for his mom and bickering about how he still doesn’t use his turn signals in the car.The work shift we both have in the afternoon zooms up, too, like all the hours of our day have been full and busy.
Even work itself doesn’t seem slow despite the excitement and readiness everyone feels to have tomorrow off.I don’t suppose that’s a bad thing, though.It feels festive and warm here, between the staff and the patrons alike, between normal work and my extra task of decorating the front of the house and the bar area with Christmasy things.It all speeds the time along.
And I find things still skipping along after Lucent is closed and Luke and I are free to go.It’s late now and we’re hungry, getting tired, planning how early we need to get up tomorrow so we have time to cook before we go to his mom’s house….
It seems like no time at all has passed before we’re getting comfortable in his bed, having chosen it over staying on the couch again.In fact, I’m so comfortable that I’m almost instantly sinking into drowsiness instead of being able to relish the intimacy of being here for the first time.
My brain slow-dances around how good it feels to have Luke tucked all strongly to my side and across my legs, how much I like his mattress and pillows, how I’ve been growing increasingly nervous about meeting his mom.
I hope she’ll like me.
Is she nice?Does she know about Luke’s and my past?Whether she does or doesn’t, will she be sneakily…or outright…judgmental towards me?
Luke loves her so much,I remember sluggishly as I vaguely register how deep his breathing is getting against my body.He’s tired too.He’s excited to bring me around her.I don’t think that would be trueif she…were a jerk….
He twitches as he’s falling asleep, but he somehow still half-hugs me with the arm he has around my middle.It’s like he’s reassuring me that everything will be okay even though he’s quickly dozing and he doesn’t know what’s on my mind.
And as I feel myself drifting, I’m soothed.
—
I come to as a light rush of cool air goes over me and fabric goes away from me.With a shudder, I clumsily smack around for something to cover up with.My hand lands on that fabric I want, which is draped over something—someone—solid and warm.
Luke.
I’m just awake enough to feel happy he’s there.
But I comprehend that he stole the comforter as he was rolling away from me.
It takes my sleep-weighted muscles longer than I like to tug some of it free of his body.I forgive them once it’s done and I can get covered up again and mold myself along the back side of him.
Mmm.He’s not just warm like this, he’stoasty.
Home,murmurs through me as drowsiness beckons me back.
I love….
L U K E
“That mac and cheese smellssogood,” I say, glancing across the kitchen to where Maggie stands at the stove.“I can’t wait to eat it.”
I resume focusing on my task of decorating the chocolate cake, but I think I can sense her tossing a look over her shoulder to me.“That works out since I’ll need you to taste it in a minute.Are you almost done?”
I draw out the word, “Yep,” as I sprinkle the last of the chocolate shavings over the frosted top.“Be done in just a second.”
