Page 26 of Come Find Me Tonight

There’s no way I wanted her pregnant, but maybe I did?

And fuck, I’m getting hard like I’m a teenager.

I have no intention of giving my dick what it wants. It can wait until the shower tomorrow morning. “Don’t worry about that,” I murmur to her. My stomach tightens again when her body noticeably relaxes against me after that reassurance.

I have to do better with trust.

“You’re warm,” she says.

And you cool me down.

I bring my hand back up to the back of her head, and my fingertips take in the frizzy texture of her natural, wild curls as I play with the ends. They tickle my jawline and smell faintly sweet from her shampoo. And I can already envision us having a curly-haired little girl with my dark hair.

Appa suddenly pushes against me, and I release her from my arms. She bolts for the bathroom. I’m frozen, not knowing what the protocol is here. Even though she shut the door, I can hear her throwing up.

Do I go hold her hair or something?

But then she’ll see me, and we’ll be having some conversations tonight that I don’t think she’s in the mood for.

Robby would hold her hair back.

She emerges from the bathroom what feels like minutes later, and I immediately pull her to me again. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes are wet as she presses her face into my chest. “No, not really. I’m anemic.”

“I got you, baby.”

Her breathing shifts from ragged to deep and even quickly, like she hasn’t slept a day in her life. I’m proud that I made her comfortable enough to fall asleep given her state, and tonight better have improved our trust. Well, her trust in me.

I lay there for hours. I’m not that worried about falling asleep because I want this night to last forever. Or become our normal. Not the pain part, but being with her all night long in my arms. She’s the golden girl. The untouchable girl. My end game.

But I wish I knew how terrible this time is for her. I have dated a little, but the girls I’ve been involved with before never had it this bad from what they told me. Nor were they anemic, which must be a combination from hell. How would this affect our ability to have children someday? That thought hits me harder than it should, given where we are. I’m getting ahead of myself, but being an only child, I want multiple kids with Appa. Not a girl like her. Appa exactly.

It’s after midnight when I shift myself out from under her. I pull my jeans and shirt back on and slip into my worn-in Chucks. In the moonlight, I notice clutter on her nightstand—an empty bowl and cup next to a full tumbler of water. This is so not a Rook thing to do, but she needs to see I’m more than a set of pierced nipples and dominance.

Oh, that reminds me.

I pull the stained cork from my family’s vineyard, Tenuta Valenti, out of my jean pocket and set it next to her phone on the nightstand. If I can’t be here when the sun rises, a piece of me will be when she wakes. A small red light on the floor by her nightstand catches my eye. It’s a heating pad plugged in and still radiating warmth. My knees pop as I squat down and pull the plug from the wall.

How did she live without me all these years?

“Goodnight, Appa.”

I gently press a kiss to her forehead. My lips linger a second longer than they should, and then I take her dishes downstairs to the kitchen. As I rinse them out and put them into the dishwasher, I let myself imagine this is what living together would feel like, and I’m her trusted caretaker when she’s having down days like this. Whether it’s her period, a cold, or morning sickness someday, I want to cook for her and be her personal heating blanket forever.

Opening the front door, I grip the edge.

She’s not in deep enough, Robby.

I leave with my chest aching and heavy and lock the door behind me.

The next morning, I’m awake at six despite not crashing until two. My body needs more rest, but oh well. Time to work out and burn off last night’s pasta, but I send Appa a message first.

@Rook: You saw it. But do you see me yet?

There’s no way she’d miss the wine cork. Unless she bumped it, it would still stand proud next to her phone when she woke up, and if she read my message, she undoubtedly saw the cork, too. And was probably deep in a rabbit hole, researching my family’s vineyard. If she looked hard enough, she’d find a picture of me with my family. It was taken the summer after our fateful meet-cute, and I hope she’ll recognize me.

When I notice she has read the message later that morning, I send a follow-up. She doesn’t have to answer, but I have to insert the Rook edge back into the situation for her fantasy.