Page 19 of Over and Above
Which was how, a short while later, I ended up with Magnus’s head on my shoulder as he snored softly. My own sleep troubles had taught me that sudden movement or changes could easily derail the whole shebang, so I left the movie playing, and when Magnus tried to cuddle in against me more, I grabbed a throw pillow and let him arrange himself against the pillow in my lap. Once he was done wiggling around, I reached behind me for one of the couch blankets we kept on the back of the sectional, even in summer.
Careful not to wake him, I spread the blanket over Magnus and myself and sat back to enjoy the end of the movie.
As if.
I was hyperaware of Magnus’s every breath, the rise and fall of his chest, the welcome weight of his head, the sturdiness of his shoulders, the warmth of his body, the restless twitch of his legs, and the little huffs of breath escaping his full lips. Luckily, I’d seen the movie many times, but even so, I couldn’t have pinpointed where we were at in the film or what was happening. All my attention was on Magnus, so much so that, at first, I was unaware of my own responses.
I’d shifted my position to better accommodate him sleeping on me, and my left arm came to rest naturally on the blanket covering us both. Magnus’s torso was under my hand, but the contact was unintentional, including when I started gently patting him when his breathing sped up or he wriggled around in his sleep.
By the time I realized I was touching Magnus, we had a nice little rhythm going where he’d sort of snuffle, and I’d pat him and make a soothing noise, trying to keep him and the dogs asleep. The movie had a very poorly done sequel that was nowhere near as funny as the original, but I let the TV automatically start the sequel rather than risk waking my charges.
At some point, the blanket slipped, and I patted Magnus’s bare arm and chest. Warm. Solid. An electric awareness zipped through me. I was enjoying this unexpected cuddle time far more than I had any right to, but Magnus was asleep after a stressful and traumatizing day. Keeping him comfortably resting outweighed my need to distance myself from the contact.
And maybe I didn’t need to. Maybe it was okay to enjoy having a warm person in my lap, to know I was helping him, to give us both something we needed. Apparently, my body had been waiting for that sort of rationalization because the next time Magnus stirred, I was more deliberate with my patting and caressing. Instead of a huff, Magnus moaned a low erotic sound.
I went instantly, painfully hard under the pillow on my lap, and when Magnus blinked and stretched, it was the most natural thing in the world to caress his face, trail my fingers down his stubbly jaw. He adjusted his position, and suddenly, his face, his very awake face, was right there. A single dip of my head, and we’d be in prime kissing position.
I could kiss him. I could give us both that as well. I could?—
“Wait.” Magnus stopped me as I was millimeters away from that kiss. Maddeningly, he scrambled off my lap to sit up next to me. “I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for months now. But I don’t want a pity fuck.
“It’s not pity.” I licked my parched lips. I’d been so close to simply letting things happen, but now that Magnus was no longer on my lap and, even worse, was talking, the moment slipped away. “More like…” I struggled to find my own words. “I liked you sleeping on me. I like taking care of you.”
Magnus released a frustrated noise. “You’re housing me for the night. You fed me. You’re ensuring I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Trust me, I’m well taken care of. Kiss me because you want it.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. That I couldn’t do. If I disguised kissing or anything else as stress relief for Magnus, something I could offer that merely happened to also be pleasurable for me, I could only too easily go there. But asking me to own the desire? That was a step too far for my tired, grief-addled brain.
“When you’re ready, really ready, I can’t wait to kiss you.” Magnus pushed himself up off the couch. “Right now, though, I’m headed to that guest bed of yours.”
“Wait. You don’t have to be alone.” My voice came out weak and uncertain, and Magnus shook his head.
“Yeah, I do.”
I sat on the couch long after Magnus stalked off to bed, the dogs trailing after him, leaving me alone and reeling.Quiet.This place was far too quiet and too close to the empty nest Magnus had teased me about back in March. Any number of decisions swirled around me, fragments of possible futures, more rationalizations, anything to escape how damn much I wanted to go to Magnus.
Chapter Eleven
Magnus
I must have drifted off at some point before dawn. I woke in Eric’s guest bed with my phone buzzing against my face, but I certainly didn’t feel like I’d slept a wink. The incoming phone messages were all from insurance and fire inspector people wanting to know when I might be at the scene.
Thescene. There was that word again, underscoring my lack of choice to face the day and the reality of the house fire. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to go in my ruined clothes from the day before because I had the pair of jeans I’d purchased last night. Still no clean shirt. Resigned to asking Eric for something to borrow, I opened the door after pulling on the jeans and my shoes, only to find a T-shirt on the handle. A subtle sign to not parade around shirtless again?
Probably, but I gratefully shrugged into the faded shirt advertising the annual firefighter pancake breakfast. And if I was more temptation than Eric wanted to deal with, at least the feeling was mutual. Further, now that I was dressed, I could deal with the dogs and possibly leave a note for Eric to avoid any awkward residue from falling asleep on the guy last night.
However, before I could so much as whistle for Ben and Jerry, Eric greeted me from his seat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in front of him. The dogs were asleep near his feet, full bowls of water and chow nearby.
“You fed and watered them? Thanks.” The leftover kibble told me Eric had been extra generous, but I wasn’t about to quibble over minor details.
“Told you they liked me.” Eric offered a tentative smile. “And I figured you’d be in a rush to get to your house this morning.”
My gut tugged at the way Eric’s voice softened onhouse,an unwelcome reminder of what I’d lost. Maybe the impersonal labels everyone else kept using were better.
“Yeah, I need to get to the scene. If the boys have been out, I’ll just head there now.” I gestured at the backdoor that led to the small deck.
“I’ll go with you.” Eric placed his empty cup in the dishwasher and joined me at the door in a series of efficient movements that left me more frustrated than impressed. As much as I was attracted to the guy and his confident way of carrying himself, the last thing I wanted was to be some sort of rescue project for him.
“You don’t have to do that.”
