Page 77 of Let's Talk About Love

She laughed. “Takumi, go back to bed.”

“But you’re in here.” He pushed off the wall, sighing and lumbering toward her. “Stand up.”

Alice stood, giving in, and prepared to follow him, but he sat instead.

“Come on.” He tugged her into his lap, resting his head on her shoulder.

His fever made him more like a heat rock than a person. And she was a lizard, curling around him like a lazy cat in the sun.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, picking up two of the pictures. “Can I have these?”

Takumi cracked one eye open. “I accidentally broke the SD card for one of those. Let me make copies before you take them.”

A picture of the twins caught Alice’s eye. “Who’s this?” A white woman kneeled in the grass with them.

“Their mom.”

“Oh. She’s white.”

His abrupt laughter was cut short by a coughing fit. “Is that a problem?”

“Um, no? Why would it be?” Alice thought about it—his question felt like a setup. Takumi may have been sick, but that didn’t seem to be enough to stop him from trying to get her to talk about things she’d rather… not. “You know what? No. Nope. Not doing this. That is so far out of my lane and I’m gonna stay right here.” She tucked her legs to the side, curling all the way up onto his lap.

“I see you,” he said, but tightened his arms around her anyway.

“Sorry.” Because it felt like she had to say something.

“I’m too tired to care, but just do better.”

Alice side-eyed him. “You are way too perfect for my liking. I’m gonna need you to develop some flaws so our friendship can have some balance, okay? It’s stressful.” She managed to speak without laughing, but the smile on her face was beginning to make her cheeks hurt.

“I have flaws.”

“You do not! I haven’t seen any.”

“Maybe because I’m constantly being my absolute best so you’ll like me.”

“Why do you keep thinking I don’t like you?” she asked, worried. “I really do. But I don’t like Perfect Takumi all that much. I complain about you to my counselor.” She laughed. “I want you to feel like you can be yourself with me.”

“I’m always myself. But okay.” He nuzzled her neck. “Can we please go back to bed?”

His face right in that exact spot, his breath against her skin, did funny things to her heart rate. She prayed he couldn’t hear it.

“If you’re going to use me as a human body pillow, I should receive some sort of payment. There are girls on the Internet who are paid handsomely to snuggle.”

“What do you want?” He looked up. She brushed his hair back from his forehead. As she did it, his eyelids drooped, his head leaning into her touch.

“A promise,” she said, thinking before speaking. She would’ve liked to have asked him to never leave her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So she settled for the next best thing. “Will you—”

“I adore you,” he said, looking into her eyes. “You know that, right?”

(Oh. Okay. Well. Okay.)

Alice experienced every clichéever written: her heart skipped a beat and then thundered in her ears, she held her breath, the world slipped away, and she felt like she was falling.

“I do now,” she whispered.

His hand cradled Alice’s jaw. He pressed his lips closer to the corner of her mouth than her cheek.