As in way nice.
So nice, my body relaxed, giving up the grudge.
Okay, then I’d break up with him the day after tomorrow.
Or maybe sometime next week.
When I made that decision, I fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Home
“Meeeeooow!”
My eyes opened and I saw smooth brown skin.
My head turned and I realized I was partially on my side, partially on Vance. I was pressed up against Vance’s side and back, he was on his stomach. My cheek had been resting on his shoulder, my arms cocked, one hand against his side, the other flat on his back. My h*ps and legs were in full contact, my top leg thrown over his thigh.
Major cuddle action.
Um.
Serious yikes.
Boo was standing on my shoulder staring down at me, each of his kitty paws pressing into me like they weighed a ton even though Boo himself weighed less than twelve pounds.
He was confused at his unprecedented new location and thinking he was four hours ahead, perhaps in Boston (even though it was doubtful he knew Boston existed), rather than outside Golden and in the same time zone as always. Therefore he’d decided he wanted an early breakfast.
“Meeeeeeeooooooooow!”
Jeez.
I moved away from Vance trying to do it gently so as not to wake him if Boo hadn’t already.
“Hush, Boo,” I whispered, my voice sounding hoarse with sleep. I was a heavy sleeper. I knew it was early and I was not happy to have my sleep and my warm cuddle interrupted.
Vance moved, coming up on his forearms and looking toward me. “I got him,” Vance’s voice was sleepy too, husky-sleepy, sexy-husky-sleepy.
“That’s okay,” I said.
Then I stopped talking, stopped breathing and my belly fluttered in deep Grade Eight followed by a roller-coaster plummet when I looked at him.
His voice wasn’t the only thing that was sexy-husky-sleepy. His eyes were soft, warm and unguarded and he was looking at me with that “mine” possessive look but also that other look too, the one I could never figure out but I knew I remembered. This time, early in the morning, dawn not even a promise, the room dim and Vance unguarded, the look was magnified.
And I finally remembered where I’d seen that look before.
No one had ever looked at me that way.
No, I’d seen someone else looking at someone else that way.
Nick used to look at Auntie Reba that way.
Like she was breath.
Like she was necessity.
Like she was life.