Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Oh no.
Did I just speak those words out loud?
His eyes lit and lips curled up.
I did speak them out loud, and the humor and…
Lord help me…
Tenderness in his gaze made me not regret it, which was crazy.
But it was true.
“Nuke our food, babe,” he ordered, turning to his phone and murmuring, “We’ll get you over that body image bullshit later.”
He made this sound like he’d just jotted that as priority one on his to-do list.
Right, it was official. Enough was enough, I could endure no more.
For the rest of the night, I was taking it one step at a time.
Dinner. Treats. Then…whatever came next.
And one step at a time meant I was resolutely not thinking about whatever was going to come next.
So I found Javi’s built-in microwave and got to work.
EIGHT
“SMOKE SIGNALS”
(PHOEBE BRIDGERS)
My eyes opened, and the first thing I saw was Javi’s head on the pillow beside me, his body turned my way, his eyes closed because he was asleep.
I also felt his arm resting heavy on my waist, the warmth of his body, and heard his even breathing.
Confronted with all of this wonder first thing in the morning, it did not occur to me that last night I’d fallen asleep after pad thai and two scoops of Tillamook brownie batter ice cream, doing this scrunched into one side of Javi’s chesterfield while he was lounged in the other.
We were rewatching Ted Lasso episodes I’d already seen four times, doing this because Javi had proclaimed, “Only feel-good shit tonight.”
I thought this was an excellent idea, I loved it that Javi thought Ted was feel-good (because he was), and since I already knew I’d rewatch Ted Lasso a gazillion more times before I died, I was totally up for a Ted Lasso watch.
In other words, I fell in with his plans.
That was, I did before I fell asleep.
I’d woken when he was carrying me up his stairs.
I was so tired, I didn’t have it in me to marvel at this.
Instead, I’d mumbled, “I got it.”
“Yeah,” he’d replied, but he didn’t put me on my feet until I was in his bathroom.
I’d watched hazily as he dug through a drawer, found a new toothbrush and ripped off the plastic covering that always drove me crazy because it was so hard to get off, but he did it like it was made of paper. He handed it to me, dug through the drawer again and found toothpaste. He handed that to me, left, came back with a T-shirt and set it on the vanity counter.
Those things accomplished, he ran a finger along the side of my neck. I trembled at his soft touch. Then he walked out and closed the bedroom door behind him.
And that was, I’d thought at the time, the end of our first unofficial (I wasn’t ready to proclaim it as official yet, but now only due to how weird it was) date.
I felt bad about taking his bed because that was rude. Even if he didn’t have a chunky throw, I should sleep on his couch. It was long, and even with his height, I suspected Javi could fit, but there was no doubt I’d be a lot more comfortable on it than he would.
However, all that had happened and the weariness it had left in its wake overwhelmed me, and I didn’t have it in me to find Javi and protest. I barely had it in me to brush my teeth and change into his tee.
I somehow managed to accomplish these feats, turned out the bathroom lights, felt my way to his bed, fell into it…and the next bit was now.
Me learning that Javi didn’t sleep on his couch.
He slept next to me.
Again.
I was not offended by this.
Not with him right there looking so peaceful. His long, dark lashes resting on his cheeks, the weight of the life he’d lived that I didn’t know until that very moment he constantly carried having left his features. This didn’t make him appear boyish, per se, but it definitely made him a different Javi.
One I’d never seen before.
One who didn’t grow up alternating between the streets and the system.
One who didn’t have a mom he had to look after because she had serious mental health issues.
One who didn’t have a rich and famous dad who did everything in his power not to be a part of Javi’s life.
One whose every second of his existence didn’t lead him to forming the Shadow Soldiers in order to look out for people like him when he was a kid, and his mom, when she was trying to raise her son on the streets while coping with an untreated illness.
One who hadn’t lost two of those soldiers last December when they’d jumped into a situation Javi had advised them against jumping into and got themselves shot to death because of it.