Page 162 of Never Not Friends

“I’ll just choose one that looks good.”

I choose the longest one I can find.

She nestles back into the couch.

Closer this time.

So close our shoulders touch.

And it’s nice.

“I might not make it through this one.” She yawns.

“I can leave if you’re tired.”

“No.” Her sleepy smile makes something inside my chest squeeze in a good way. “You have to stay until the end. See how it turns out.”

There’s another yawn, then ten minutes of silence, which is the first sign that something is wrong.

I glance down.

Her eyes are closed. Her head tilts slightly then slowly falls against my shoulder.

Every muscle in my body goes still.

I look down at the top of her head, and a strange comfort falls over me.

Everything else disappears except Emma’s weight against me.

For the past two weeks, I’ve imagined so many things about Emma and me. What would’ve happened if she had told me about her parents, or if I had fought harder for her after college? Heck, I even imagined kissing her in my kitchen.

But I never once imagined what it would feel like to have her asleep on my shoulder, trusting me enough to let her whole body go soft beside me.

I don’t move.

I don’t even reach for the remote when the show stops.

Emma shifts, her cheek rubbing against my shirt before snuggling in again.

I lower my cheek, resting it against the top of her head, and close my eyes.

Her hair smells lovely. Her breathing brings comfort. Her warmth feels safe.

For the first time in a long time, I feel settled.

Then I do something I probably shouldn’t.

I turn and press the softest kiss to her temple.

I couldn’t help myself.

Emma stirs, and I pull back immediately. But instead of opening her eyes, she slips her arm through mine and curls her body against me, face tucked into my shoulder. A strand of her red hair falls across her cheek. I carefully brush it away and then smooth it back again, even though it doesn’t need it. Then again. And again. Because I don’t want to stop.

I close my eyes.

And for the first time all week, my mind isn’t racing.

I’m not thinking about the wedding.