Page 74 of Duke
“It is.” Her eyes glimmer, reflecting the overhead lights in pinpricks of white.
“How about we start with a hug and go from there?”
I don’t know why I said that.It’s the wrong call, isn’t it? Shejustsaid she wanted to keep boundaries clear, and here I am, offering her a fucking hug in the most awkward way possible.
But then she’s turning toward me and pressing her body against mine, going up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck.
“I’d love a hug.” Her voice is thick with emotion as she rests her cheek on my chest. “Thank you.”
I take my first deep inhale since I got the news and pull Wheeler close, putting my hand on the back of her head. Her hips melt into mine, her fingers in the hair at my nape.
The embrace feels…easy. Comfortable. Broken-in, like my favorite pair of Wranglers.
With Wheeler in my arms, it’s the first time I’ve felt like shit might just be okay. We needed this.
We need each other.
I could get addicted to this.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I murmur into her hair. “I’m gonna order in some dinner. You’re gonna sit on the couch or take a bath or do whatever you need to do to relax. Then I’ll feed you, and we can talk or not talk. Either way, I just want to be with you. That sound good?”
She nods, sniffling. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
We agree on Thai food—we both get vegetarian pad Thai because chicken is grossing out Wheeler—and we eat on the couch while watching the new season ofThe Righteous Gemstones.
“Since we never got to finish it,” Wheeler says, explaining her choice. She’s been able to keep her dinner down so far and has even gone for seconds of the spring rolls I ordered.
I eye her. “You didn’t watch the rest of the show?” Because I didn’t. Didn’t feel right to watch it without Wheeler there.
“Didn’t get a chance to, no.”
Can’t help but wonder if she felt the same.
She keeps to her side of the couch, and I keep to mine. But she seems to appreciate me being here to take care of her. When she moves to get up to toss our to-go boxes, I jump to my feet and grab hers. I notice her eyes well up.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Anytime. I saw you looking at those Blizzards.” I drop the containers in the trash. “Which one do you want? Reese’s peanut butter cup or New York cheesecake?”
I may or may not have added a stop at Dairy Queen to our Door Dasher’s itinerary. Added fifty bucks to the order thanks to the delivery fee and tip, but it just felt right.
“Reese’s, please.”
Opening the freezer, I smile. “How’d I know you were gonna pick that one?”
“Because it’s the best.”
“It is. Did I overdo it with the Reese’s?”
“No such thing. But seriously, are you sure you don’t want it?”
I pop off the top and tuck one of DQ’s long, red plastic spoons into the thick ice cream. “All yours, Blue.”
She has this funny look on her face when I hand it to her, along with some napkins. “For a single dude, you’re really thoughtful.”
“One, please don’t call me dude.”
“Why not?”
