Page 59 of Come Find Me Tonight

Promise?

I walk over to her across the cool tile floor and lean down to kiss her temple. “Do your skincare. I’ll be waiting in bed.”

She grazes her fingers over my boxers. “You’re the perfect man,” she murmurs.

Something’s clingier about her tonight.

Has she been taking her birth control? She wouldn’t pull the goalie on me without telling me first, and I hardly think she’s the kind of girl who’d do that, either. Let’s be honest, I’d gladly impregnate her if she asked.

Whoa, that’s a fucking spiral.

I put my brain in check, realizing it’s the high from Napa still on her mind, but I’ll still cream her tonight like always for good measure.

She just missed me this week.

“Mm, don’t forget it, baby.”

This time, I press my lips to hers but ultimately leave her wanting more. I prop myself up against her headboard with a pillow wedged behind my back and lazily throw the fluffy duvet over my bare legs. I watch as she applies and rinses off her facial cleanser, followed by a small, disposable cotton pad for toner. Then her serum and moisturizer. I’ve watched so many of her ‘get unready’ videos that I already know her nighttime skincare routine, step by step, and what her favorite products are. Shopping for her birthday or Christmas will be a breeze.

“I’m going to get you to do your own skincare routine,” Appa says, turning off the bathroom light.

“Do I need one?”

She pulls the sleep dress up to her knees so she can straddle my lap and plant her knees on each side of my hips. “No, because you’re a guy with perfect skin. It’s not fair.”

“You have perfect skin, too,” I say.

Locking eyes with hers, I run my palms up her smooth, toned thighs under the buttery material of her dress, and the material rolls up to her waist. She crosses her arms over her torso, grabbing the bottom hem, and slowly draws it over her head. The dress is so light that it doesn’t make a noise when it hits the carpet. She has the best boobs, the perfect weight in my hands. I reach up and run my fingertips along the smooth curves of her chest. She leans forward, making her soft curls fall in front of her face, and I trail my fingers down her too flat stomach.

“You okay?” she asks.

You have to snap out of it.

“Hmm?”

“You seem zoned out.” She brushes her gentle fingers through my hair.

Because I was fantasizing about your belly not being so flat. Because I put something there.

“Yeah, busy week.”

“Well, let’s take your mind off things.” She leans down to kiss me. “But I want you on top of me.”

This is only going to make it worse.

The next morning, I’m awake before Appa, and I leave her cocooned in the sheets. I pick up my boxers and her dress from the floor and toss both in her hamper on the way to the shower. I step inside, and the bath products she originally gave me still live on my designated shelf. It feels like I already live here sometimes, and I mostly do on the weekends…and some weeknights.

Appa opens the glass shower door, letting some of the air-conditioned air seep into the steamy shower, and steps inside. “Morning.” She yawns, taking her spot on the opposite side of the shower. She ducks under the showerhead, wetting her hair. Facing me, she closes her eyes as the water pours over her, and it feels like permission or an invitation to ogle her curves.

Fuck, her body is sexy.

But she’d be more beautiful if she were a little…rounder. My eyes widen.

What is happening to me?

I force myself to turn away and focus on finishing showering without laying eyes on her again until she steps out of the shower with her towel tucked under her arms.

Within an hour, we have our overpriced coffee and are walking into a home improvement store. The roads are quiet for a Saturday morning, and the early morning warmth is my favorite part of summer days. Buying home improvement supplies and having a project feels like such a normal couple thing to do together, and the smell of lumber hits my nose as we navigate to the paint section.