Page 54 of P.S. I Loathe You

He’s quiet for a long beat before responding in a soft whisper. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more than I want you.” I can feel my heart beating in my chest at his admission, and it only thumps harder as he continues, “And I don’t mean just in that moment. It’s all the fucking time. If that’s something that scares you, I’m sorry but you’ll just have to get over it because I’m completely, utterlyaddictedto you.”

“They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem,” I say wryly.

I feel him nod against the back of my neck. “You’re definitely a problem. But I don’t plan on breaking the habit anytime soon.”

I feel a grin spreading across my face. “Thank god.”

“Now go the fuck to sleep, Devon,” he says gruffly, his tone belied by the soft kiss he presses to the back of my neck.

“You cuddled?”

I bring up a hand to rub over my face, mildly mortified to be having this conversation. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Ryan shrugs. “Just checking. So…it was just the one time? After you got home from Paris?”

I avert my gaze, running a hand through my hair.

“Devon.”

I wince. “Okay, fine. It’s been every night since.”

“That you’ve cuddled?” Ryan asks again.

I sigh. “Yes.”

“All night?”

“Yes,” I bite out.

“Every night this week?”

“Ryan,”I snap, glaring at my friend.

He holds his palms up to ward off my annoyance. “Just making sure I have the facts right.”

“Well, you do,” I grumble.

We’re interrupted as Lola comes whizzing into the room, making a beeline for Ryan. She climbs up onto his lap and instantly goes for his phone, expertly navigating the screen until she’s found the video she wants to watch. I shake my head in amazement; it’s genuinely scary how tech-savvy toddlers are.

“I thought you guys were just—” Ryan glances down at Lola and clearly edits what he was about to say— “fluffing.What are you doing cuddling every night?”

I let out a weary sigh, lifting one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. It just sort of…happened.”

“Well, if you’re uncomfortable with it then just stop doing it,” Ryan says reasonably.

I bite my lip, hesitating for a moment. “That’s…not exactly the issue.”

A look of realisation crosses Ryan’s face, followed by a broad grin. “Ohh…I see. Youlikeit. And that’s freaking you out.”

“Of course it’s freaking me out,” I exclaim, throwing my hands up. “It’sWes Holt.Why wouldn’t it freak me out?”

Ryan shrugs. “I don’t know. You like fluffing him, so it’s not that great a stretch that you’d like cuddling with him.”

I send him an exasperated look. “It’s weird that you keep calling it ‘fluffing.’”

“Well, what am I supposed to call it? ‘The Wild Thing’? ‘How’s Your Father?’”

“Please stop, I beg you.”

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