Page 48 of Things I Read About

I move over to him, under him, before I can change my mind. He stops, his eyes go wide and then he restarts, faster. He groans out as he leans over me.

I stop holding back and immediately explode right before he does. It’s hot all over my neck and chest, and not exactly pleasant. I don’t love stickiness or gooey things. But it’s worth it for the look in his eyes right now. Like he’s the one living a dream. Like I, nerdy little Sally Canton, just fulfilled a fantasy of his.

“Damn, girl,” he says, leaning back with a hand over the inked skin above his heart. “My chest is about to explode.” He smiles down at me. “I knew it the second you stood next to me at the bar. Hazardous.” He steps back into his boxers on the way to the bathroom, then comes back with a small towel.

He cleans me up and pulls my underwear and sweatpants back into place. Then he shifts me, shifts both of us. He lies flat on his back up against the fire and settles me on top of him, pulling his coat over my back as a blanket. He kisses the top of my head and then runs his fingers through my hair.

I exhale, melting into his torso. I look down at the images covering his warm skin. I trace the eagle on his chest with my fingers. “Will you tell me what they mean? Even the sad stories?”

“Tomorrow.” He yawns and I echo him. “Let’s try to sleep for a little bit.”

I snuggle into his bulging embrace. “There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep any time soon,” I admit.

“Okay, you tell me some stories then. What do I need to download?”

For a long time, we talk about books. It’s amazing.

He doesn’t get bored with me. He’s listened to so many titles and genres, I’m quite impressed.

I say I have a friend who writes romantic comedies and manage to tell him a lot about my sisters without ever explaining that they’re my sisters. I tell him about an artist in New York, a COO in Tulsa, a crazy wedding in the Caribbean, and a few movie premiers in Los Angeles.

He doesn’t reciprocate, though, other than to say he lost his best friend and had a falling out with the few people he has back in Boston.

“And you’re from Texas?”

I huff. My father, Oklahoman to his core, would die at the mistake. But I don’t correct him. “The heartland. God’s country, as my family would say.”

He shifts under me. “You believe in that? In God?”

I sigh. “I do, but...after my mom… I guess I’m just really, really mad at Him.”

“Hm.” His hands continue to sift through my hair.

“You?” My hands continue tracing his skin.

“I… I’ve seen a lot of dark shit, Sally. I wasn’t exaggerating.” He sighs. “So, I really don’t know if I believe in one, but if some all-knowing, all-powerful creator in the sky does exist, he can probably handle you being pissed at him.”

“Huh. I like that.”

“I like you,” he says softly.

“Yeah?” I look up at him.

“Yes, but I’m going to need you to quit squirming around on me so we can sleep.”

I smile. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“Hazardous, girl. Hazardous,” he says, as his hands go to my ass.

I reach up and kiss him.

This time, he kisses me back.

12

The morning light wakes Nate up way too soon, making him grumpy and intense. He immediately lifts me up and sets me on the couch, then puts on his shirt and goes out the front door. I sit up, covering myself with his jacket. He comes back in looking a bit better. Not better enough to cuddle, though, apparently.

“My text went through, so a chopper will be here for us in a couple hours.”