I think my heart almost stops when she takes the three steps of distance between us. Her hands slowly slide over my hips and then loop around my lower back. Her chin tucks down and she leans her cheek against my chest, right between my pecs.
“We’ll take care of the police report and then you can worry about calling her in the morning,” I say as she melts further into me. I hold the back of her head with my hand and wrap my other arm around her body. “Do you want to grab a few things so you can stay with me for the weekend?”
It’s bold to ask her to stay at the bunkhouse for more than a night like she has once before. But I wouldn’t sleep a wink with her staying here, and maybe this is selfish thinking after the night she’s had, but I’m fucking desperate to have her in my bed again.
She nods, making her nose burrow into my chest.
“Warren?” she whispers.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know,” I say as I kiss the top of her head.
“Savannah?” I whisper.
“Hmm?” she answers without opening her eyes.
She managed to take a shower and gave in to letting me put her into comfortable clothes. I dug for the biggest and softest T-shirt that I could find in my drawer. With a sleepy look on her face, she stood in front of me with her arms up and I gently pulled it over her head. I hugged her and tried to gauge her temperature at the same time, thinking she probably had the flu.
After that, she insisted on ‘hanging out’ on the couch for a little bit instead of going to bed, but it took all of five minutes for her to fall asleep. That was two hours ago.
It didn’t take long for her to mistake me for her pillow, either.
I’ve been sitting here with her head on my shoulder the entire time trying not to blink too hard or breathe too loudly. Answering emails and dealing with some business stuff on my phone has barely distracted me enough to not think too much about how one of her arms is stretched around my waist and her breath dancing across my neck every few seconds.
“It’s pretty late,” I say.
No answer.
“Savannah.” I lean in closer this time.
“What,” she whispers.
“Time for bed.”
“I’m already sleeping,” she mumbles in a slur of disoriented speech.
Carefully, I lift my arm that’s been trapped under her this whole time, but when I do, she flops right down into my lap.
“Jesus,”I grunt, lifting her back up to a sitting position. Her head flops to one side and her eyes remain closed. “What the?” I grab her by the shoulders and give her a gentle shake. It’s enough to make her heavy eyelids lift up and down a few times.
“Stop it,” she demands, once again slurring her words. “Go back to sleep.”
She places one hand on each of my pecs and pushes me down. I land flat on my back, now stretched out on the couch cushions. I’m not complaining, but I’m shocked when she scoots down and lays right next to me, trapping me behind her.
I could probably get up now and carry her to bed. But she snuggles closer to me, and I don’t think I would move now for anything.
As if her new position wasn’t comfortable enough, her body turns to face me, and she wiggles in close. My eyes go wide as her right leg hooks over my waist, and she rubs her head back and forth until she’s perfectly satisfied with its position on my chest.
“I like it when you hold me.”
There’s no way she doesn’t feel my heart trying to violently beat its way out of my body right now. Time stands still and I commit her words to memory. I’ve imagined her saying something like that to me so many times, but it sounds even better in real-time.
Slowly, I curl the arm that’s underneath her up and around her waist. My hand rests near her hip bone—a respectfully neutral zone. Not too low. Not too high.
I can’t help baiting her, pathetically, to say it again or reassure me that it’s true.
