I felt weird. I’d never had a sleepover at my boyfriend’s (or whatever) house. I mean, I did have a sleepover but that was a break-up/make-up session that included a rousing fight, unbelievable sex and a heartbreaking misunderstanding. I hoped this wasn’t going to be the same (though the unbelievable sex wouldn’t be unwelcome).

I needed him to make a move but he seemed happy where he was.

Hmm.

“I’m going to take a bubble bath,” I announced.

The vibe changed, his tractor beam flipped on and I felt my body lean towards him.

Finally he walked toward me, grabbed my bag off my shoulder and then walked away. I followed him to the bedroom. He dumped my bag on the bed and then he lay down, picked up his book and started reading.

Okay then, tractor beam malfunction.

I got my stuff, took a long bubble bath, lotioned up with cucumber melon and put on my new nightie, soft, pale lemon silk with an edge of peach lace that hit the tops of my thighs. I yanked on my new lacy, white hipsters. I’d bundled my hair in a lose knot with a ponytail holder at the top of my head. I left my bathroom stuff where it was, gathered up my clothes and went to the bedroom.

The house was dark but the light was on in the bedroom. My bag was now on the floor, Vance was under the covers, Boo lying on his stomach, making himself at home. Vance’s chest was bare and he was up on pillows, reading, his fingers rubbing Boo’s neck.

When I entered Vance’s eyes cut to me. I rushed to my side of the bed trying not to look like I was rushing. I dumped my clothes, climbed in and confiscated Boo for a cuddle. Boo had been comfy and protested.

“Hush, Boo. Mommy wants a cuddle,” I told him.

“Meow.”

“Hush.”

I felt like an idiot talking to my cat, taking a bubble bath, having a boyfriend.

I was kind of flipping out.

This was normal stuff that normal girls do.

I’d never been normal. I’d always been kind of a freak.

And anyway, Vance was hot. I often forgot how hot he was, what with us arguing most of the time. He was just as beautiful lying in bed reading as he was kicking bad guy ass. Being reminded of that fact without him moving inside me or in a heated discussion with me made me feel… unsure.

We’d not had many quiet, normal, mellow times, hardly any. I found I couldn’t handle it.

“I can’t handle this,” I told Vance, letting Boo go. Boo hustled to the end of the bed, plopped down on his side and gave me a glare.

“What?” Vance asked.

“This,” I threw my arm out. Boo had given up the glare and started cleaning his face with his paw likely washing away cucumber melon lotion residue.

“You’re gonna have to explain, Princess.”

“I can’t explain.” And I couldn’t, at least not without sounding like a fool.

See, I’d never thought I’d have this in my life. I always thought I’d be alone. I was happy with that. I liked being alone, as long as Nick was next door and Boo felt talkative (which was all the time).

What if this worked for us? I got used to taking bubble baths in Vance’s cabin. Boo lying on the end of his bed like he’d lived there his whole kitty life. Vance crashing at my place and using my shower and making us dinner.

What if I eventually had clothes here, doubled up on the toiletries, litter box and kitty bowls so I didn’t have to cart them back and forth?

What if Vance’s jeans hung in my closet and I had to shift my nightgowns so he could have space for his t-shirts?

What if I got used to that, what if I liked it then it was all swept away?

My cute pug was chewing on my fingers, baby-dog teething.

Did pugs go bad?

I started to breathe heavily and I realized I was close to hyperventilating.

Shit!

“For f**k’s sake,” Vance muttered. He’d been staring at me the whole time I was processing and obviously lost patience.

He put down his book and hauled me across the bed and into his arms, right on top of him.

Even though this was a loving gesture and the words he next spoke were in a tone that was both sweet and tender, a tone I’d never heard him use before and I liked it a lot, the actual words were not loving, sweet or tender.

“Girl, it’s a good thing you’re so f**kin’ beautiful or you’d be a serious pain in the ass.”

I rested my forearms on his chest and my head snapped up to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m thinkin’ you didn’t get it. When you still your body, you also got to still your mind.”

“What if you can’t?”

“You can.”

“What if you can’t?”

“You can.”

I made a “huh” noise in the back of my throat.

Vance burst out laughing.

Well then.

Whatever.

I slid off him but he kept an arm around my waist, holding me to his side. I held my body tense, deciding to hold a grudge even as I rested my cheek on his shoulder.

He picked up his book and continued reading.

I decided tomorrow I was going to break up with him and I started to enumerate the reasons for doing so in my mind. He was too good-looking. I’d have to keep my head crackin’ mamma jamma skills honed to beat off all the bitches who wanted a piece of him. He was too arrogant, lying there, not paying any attention to my negative-body-language grudge (regardless of my cheek on his shoulder and my arm which had snaked around his waist) and reading like he didn’t have a care in the world. He told me what to do all the time, in macho-speak no less, and in front of other people.

While I was mentally enumerating, his fingers pulled up my nightie, his hand slid inside my panties over the cheek of my ass, to come to rest flat against my hip.

That felt nice.

As in way nice.

So nice, my body relaxed, giving up the grudge.

Okay, then I’d break up with him the day after tomorrow.

Or maybe sometime next week.

When I made that decision, I fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Home

“Meeeeooow!”

My eyes opened and I saw smooth brown skin.

My head turned and I realized I was partially on my side, partially on Vance. I was pressed up against Vance’s side and back, he was on his stomach. My cheek had been resting on his shoulder, my arms cocked, one hand against his side, the other flat on his back. My h*ps and legs were in full contact, my top leg thrown over his thigh.