from sleep.
I moved so I could sink my hands into the long locks of his hair.
I’d always loved Nathan’s hair.
“I really do have to go to work,” I admitted. “And, bonus points, I now get to visit with my favorite guy.”
Nathan’s lips twitched as he stared up at me with amusement covering his features.
“There are times that I forget that he’s alive,” he admitted. “Like, until right then when you said that, I didn’t remember. Now I feel like an asshole for forgetting him.”
I lightly scratched Nathan’s head and ran my fingers through the finest head of hair I’d ever seen. Women would’ve killed for hair like this.
“You’ve known about him for all of three days,” I said. “It’s not like you’re expected to just jump right on board with this. You’re allowed a few days to adjust.”
He closed his eyes and a sound close to a purr came out of his mouth when he arched his neck, indicating that he liked what I was doing to his hair.
“I used to dream about you putting your hands in my hair,” he said.
When he opened his eyes next, he almost looked guilty for what he’d admitted.
That’s when I kissed him.
Stinky breath. Having to pee so bad that I could barely hold it. Needed to get out of bed five minutes ago.
All of those things didn’t matter, not one single bit. Not when the man that I loved was telling me things that I’d longed to hear forever.
“Yeah?” I asked, pulling back. “Well I’ve always wanted to sink my fingers into it.”
To emphasize that point, I sifted my fingers through his long locks and ran my nose along the bridge of his nose, wondering if he’d care if I just stayed exactly like this for the rest of my life.
He probably would.
“You need to go,” he murmured into my mouth.
I did.
I sighed and fell over, allowing my body to hit the bed with a solid bump before I kept on rolling.
I was seconds away from getting off the bed completely when he said, “I don’t want you to go.”
I looked at him over my shoulder, loving the look in his eyes.
“I don’t want to go, Nathan,” I admitted.
With that, I got up and made my way to the bathroom, taking care of my pressing bladder needs.
I was just reaching for the toilet paper when he pushed through the partially closed bathroom door and looked right at me.
I blinked as we made eye contact.
“Umm.” I paused, unsure what I should do. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m waiting my turn.”
“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” I said, feeling heat rise in my face.
“I know,” he said. “But it doesn’t have any toilet paper.”
I felt my face get even hotter. “Umm,” I said. “You can take some from in here.”
“Or I can just wait in here until you get done,” he pointed out, gesturing to the roll of toilet paper that I was still in the process of reaching for.
I looked away and finished, wiping myself clean and standing up, pulling my underwear up so fast that I gave myself a wedgie.
I’d be damned if I was going to pick it out, though.
Turning around, I flushed the toilet and headed to the sink where I washed my hands and started brushing my teeth.
That’s when I realized that Nathan hadn’t waited for me to get out before he started to do his business.
I squeaked and rushed out of the room, taking my foaming mouth and toothbrush with me to the kitchen sink.
Finishing up, I spit in the sink before rinsing my toothbrush out and turning on my coffee maker.
It was sitting on the counter beside Nathan’s.
I turned his on, too, and hurried back to the room to get dressed in my nursing clothes that were the only thing hanging up in the closet.
I really, really needed to unpack.
If anyone came over here, they’d see all my shit in boxes.
Speaking of anyone coming over, I turned toward the door just as I was pulling my scrub pants on and yelled, “Hey, are your parents meeting us for dinner?”
There was a long pause and then, “Yes.”
“Do you want me to invite mine? That way we can just get this all out of the way at once?” I reached for my top.
I had it halfway over my head when Nathan emerged with his mouth foaming with toothpaste.
It was running down his chin and into his beard.
“I like how you refer to our marriage as ‘it’