Axley yawns. Perhaps I should use that as an excuse to send Ruben packing, but he hasn’t finished his tea yet, and I still have at least three tablespoons of liquid sitting in my mug. I pull Axley to my chest and reach for my tea. Ruben sees what I’m trying to do and hands it to me.
I take a few slow sips but I’m careful not to finish it. Ruben glances up at the clock. It’s only 10:45 but it feels much later. “You watch TV with Axley until 11, right?”
I nod.
Ruben grabs the remote and turns on the TV. He flips channels until he finds a cheesy Christmas movie and stops. It’s exactly what I would have chosen if it was just me and Axley tonight.
A few minutes later, the edges of the room are starting to get hazy. If I hadn't fixed the drink myself, I might have thought Ruben had put something in it. Not that he ever would. I blink my eyes. Why are they so heavy? The combination of Axley falling asleep on my chest, whatever that xtreme ingredient is, and about two weeks of bad sleep is all catching up to me.
I shift so I can lean back, away from Ruben, but that makes my legs push up against his. I’m past caring, and this way Axley can snuggle deeper into my chest.
I close my eyes, just for a moment.
A warm weight settles over my shoulders. Ruben’s arm. It’s heavy and warm, and much more comfortable behind my head than it has any right to be.
“Come here.” His voice is low and he pulls me closer to him so that my head ends up on his shoulder and my legs shift the other direction. I guess that’s a win, right? My legs aren’t resting against him anymore, but my head is, and it feels divine. I’m going to let my foggy brain live in my little dream world a bit longer. Daphne doesn’t exist here, and Ruben and I are such good life-long friends, resting my exhausted head on him just makes sense.
There’s a shift beside me and I crack open an eye to see Ruben kicking his legs up onto the coffee table. I take the opportunity to shift lower, so my head is on his chest instead of his shoulder.
That was smooth, right? He probably didn’t even notice. He smells amazing. His warm solid chest feels like coming home for Christmas.
Axley decides to stretch out over both of us. His head is still on my chest, but his legs are now resting on Ruben. I don’t blame him. Not one bit. “Is this okay?” I mumble, because suddenly this man’s only exit is blocked not only by me, but by twenty pounds of cuteness.
His head dips low into my hair, and he nods against it. “Yes. Everything about today has been more than okay.” He inhales, and I wish I smelled like cinnamon. “It’s been finifugal.”
I’m sure he used that word wrong, but I’ll deal with that sometime when I’m not cozied up next to him. I smile and settle in deeper.
I’m pretty sure I’m already asleep when Ruben’s other arm lifts up to cradle both me and Axley. “He’s a good kid.” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn’t used it for a while. Maybe he hasn’t. I have no clue how long I dozed off. “I’m sorry about his dad, but I’m not sorry you're back in Rosco.”
I stretch just enough to find an even more comfortable spot against him. “It’s good to be home.”
His grip tightens on me and I can’t help but feel like Rosco wouldn’t be home if Ruben wasn’t in it. Which is ludicrous. It’s my home because I grew up here and Mom is here.
Ruben takes a deep breath and my head rises and falls with his movement. “You loved him, right? Enough to settle down?”
Even with my foggy, sleep-deprived brain, I know who he's talking about. Axley’s dad. I match my breathing to Ruben’s and wait for two breaths before I answer. “I didn’t really know him,” is all I can manage before I fall asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My shoulder is stiff, but my head is supremely comfortable. Like, I’m-never-moving-from-this-spot comfortable. A noise woke me up, but it’s hard to care what it was. I shift my shoulder so it falls deeper into the space between Ruben’s chest and arm, when a loud banging on my door makes me wince.
I blink my eyes open. Light is streaming in from the window across from us, and for a moment I can’t understand it. Did we sleep here all night?
My warm human pillow shifts underneath me. “Merry Christmas.” Ruben’s voice is throaty and muffled by my hair. I squeeze my eyes closed again. I’m not quite equipped to deal with the fact that Ruben, Axley, and I all slept on my sad excuse for a sofa. If my shoulder is sore, his back, neck, and pride must be even worse off.
But I have to face him at some point, so I lift my head, and with a grimace, manage to croak out, “Merry Christmas back.” It seems like the point in the fairy tale or fever dream where one of us should bolt away from the other, but instead, neither of us moves. He doesn’t pull me in closer, which would mean…well…something, but he also doesn’t bolt up and say, What the crap, Cadence? I slept here? Do you know how many places I need to be? We're stuck somewhere between those two scenarios, and it's a scary place to be.
I should bolt, right?
Knock, knock, knock. This time it's even louder and more urgent.
Ruben smiles down at me, and the combination of that smile, his deliciously disheveled hair, and the fact that I am literally curled up into him releases some sort of primitive reaction. Ruben is the forbidden fruit. He always has been. But I’m suddenly Team Eve, thinking one little bite couldn’t hurt. He tips his head to one side, and my fingers tighten around his sweater. If he could hear my thoughts, I’d be a dead woman.
“It sounds like someone needs to talk to you.”
I cannot move. My arms, legs and torso refuse to relinquish the warmth of his body. I let my eyes flutter closed. “I’m still sleepy.” Sleepy. That is a completely rational reason to stay where I am. It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m fairly certain I’m living in a dream that won’t repeat itself. “It can wait.”
The pounding starts again. Ruben clears his throat. “I don’t think whoever is on the other side of that door agrees with you.”