Page 83 of Little Sunshine

“But I’m not tired,” she claimed.

A lie.

When I’d finished work, Mila had been in the living room. The book had still sat on her lap, but it’d been forgotten as she’d scrolled the TV.

I hadn’t bought it.

The couch and chair had been slightly off. The books on the shelf had been repositioned so they were even.

For a moment, I’d thought she’d been snooping, but when I’d gone into the kitchen, I’d smelled the faint traces of cleaner in my reorganized fridge.

Mila had been trying to clean my damn house.

I’d told her it wasn’t necessary, and she’d denied the attempt. Then she’d argued that it was necessary. Then she’d argued that she could cook rather than ordering Chinese delivery.

I’d never had someone fight me so damn hard about so damn little.

She’d finally dropped the fight when I’d told her I didn’t want either of us to cook because I wanted to start the other show she liked. The one we needed to watch from the beginning.

Of everything, that had been what’d relaxed her.

It was almost one in the morning, and she’d been fighting to stay awake since before ten. Every time I’d said anything about bed, she’d rallied and insisted I put on another episode of the heaven comedy she loved.

“Don’t remember asking if you were tired.” I stood. “I said bed.”

“Okay, good night.” She reached to the side for the remote I’d left on the arm of the couch. I grabbed it before she could, and she held out her hand.

“I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you upstairs.”

“You wouldn’t. Give me the remote. I promise I won’t watch our show.” When I didn’t give it over, she wiggled her fingers.

I took the invitation she didn’t know she made and gripped her hand to pull her standing. Since I didn’t move back, the momentum made her body crash into mine.

Her palm went to my chest, and she tipped her head to look at me.

“You gonna tell me why you don’t want to go to sleep?”

Just as quick, she dropped her hand and stepped away, nearly tripping over the couch. “I guess it’s later than I thought. Bed is probably smart.” She yawned, and it wasn’t as forced as she’d been going for. “I’m wiped. Good night.”

“Good night, sunshine.”

“You owe me like ten lobster stories now,” she muttered as she headed from the room.

I waited until she was in the entryway before killing the light. I did the same in the entryway, only turning that one off once she was up the stairs. I followed after and waited until the door to the bedroom closed before turning off the hall light.

When I was almost to the loft, the door of the bedroom was thrown open. I backtracked to the end of the hall and nearly crashed into Mila.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied, her eyes wide with a surprising amount of panic. “I just forgot my water. And I wanted to grab that book. And I didn’t eat my fortune cookie. Plus, I think?—”

“Do you want me to sleep in there with you again?”

She started to pull her full bottom lip between her teeth before wincing at the swollen cut. After a slight hesitation, she nodded.

“Get ready for bed. I’ll be right in.”

She nodded again and took off toward the room.

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