photos of parents or friends. I couldn't help but wonder why only his sister warranted a frame on the center console of his entertainment center, but I didn't feel like I could ask. Not yet.
The last time I’d been here there’d been little time for exploration. Nash had been sleep-deprived and worn out. My focus had been on centering him and getting him to sleep.
Now though, I was stuck here, at least until the Super came back from bingo. “I can’t believe I locked myself out.” Another stupid sneeze. At this rate, I’d pass out from lack of blood to my heart. Did you know when you sneeze, all your working parts just sort of stop? No heartbeat, no nothing. Sneezing is hazardous to your health.
“Here,” Nash said, handing me something that smelled like the whiskey my great grandfather used to drink, but it steamed like hot tea and felt good against my cold fingers.
“What is this?”
“Hot toddy. Old family recipe.” He pulled the towel from my shoulders and started to dry the ends of my hair, all familiar and sweet. Definitely not like him at all. I liked it—Nash Nation, tough-looking, techie guy taking care of me.
“Mmmm.” The small, satisfied noise slipped out, without my permission, but I didn’t try to cover the slip. It felt nice to have Nash fussing around me, in this quiet, almost but not quite intimate way. It felt… familiar, and I wasn’t sure why that was.
“Drink,” he said when I stared off into space, humming like an old woman as he worked that towel through my wet hair.
I listened to his demand, making a deeper, more satisfied noise when the toddy warmed me from the inside, a sensation that left me a little punch drunk.
“It’s good, right?” he asked, humor in his voice. I must have seemed ridiculous to him, needy and pathetic, but I couldn’t help myself. “Willow?”
There was too much sensation and my head felt fuzzy; a fog surrounded me, and now Nash combed his fingers through my hair, sweet and soft, too tender and yet welcome. What was in that drink, anyway? I stifled a yawn, but Nash caught me up, tugged me onto the sofa with him. I let him: I liked how it felt to be tousled around because I was a little weak and helpless. I never let a man do that to me before, but just then the warmth that surrounded me made me careless, left me stupid to warnings that might normally come into my head when I was alone with a man I didn’t really know.
Nash seemed… familiar. He felt safe, like there was something about him I knew but couldn’t quite recall. I smelled his skin, warm, but still with the scent of rain permeating from him when I leaned against him, likely the circle of his arms around me. Not sure why that was. I should have moved to the other side of the sofa, but he was… so warm… so secure.
“Willow…” he tried, his fingers on my arm curling into my shoulder like he needed to hold me tight. Like he knew how much I needed his protection. Just for a little while.
“Is Mickey back yet?” I said absently through another yawn, but Nash shushed me, pulled me to the cushions with his mouth on the top of my head as we lay next to each other. The room became silent in that space between fever and rest, right in the center of dreams and alertness. I nestled there, comfortable, free, and wondered where I’d landed. I wondered how long I’d stay there. It was safe. It was so familiar and so, I let the dream take me.
Washington D.C.
There were two spots on my new flower-print dress. I wasn’t sure if it was ketchup from the burger I’d scarfed down on my way to the library, or maybe droplets of blood from the straight pin I’d used to separate my thick lashes after I’d spent nearly an hour on my face this morning. It had pricked my finger when I’d gotten careless and those tiny blots of blood remained on the fabric.
Red against pink. Stupid really, but it reminded me of Jackie Kennedy’s bloodied pink suit the day President Kennedy had been assassinated. God, had that only been four years ago? The thought came from nowhere and I returned my attention to the small droplets. The spots were obvious and I tried to keep Isaac from noticing. He sat next to