Chapter Thirty-Five
He leansin and kisses my forehead, his lips touching my skin for a long time. His hand is gentle on the back of my head. Then he pulls back. He brings me with him and settles me on his lap. He doesn’t say anything else or ask questions, just holds me tenderly and nuzzles my head with his lips, kissing my hair every so often. I relax against him, my body molding to the shape of his. I can feel the heat of his skin, smell the scent of him, his chest moving with each breath. There’s nothing sexual about it. It’s comforting, and it surprises me. My eyes go heavy and close without my permission.
When I come to, the first thing I realize is that I must have fallen asleep. Not unheard of. I’ve taken a nap or two after classes before. The second thing I realize is that I’m not on my bed. Or the couch. Nope. Memory of what happened before I fell sleep is slow to break through the fog, but when it does, I know it. I’m on Liam’s lap still. I have no idea how long I slept. I’m in that haze that follows unexpected naps. When you don’t quite know what time it is, or what day it is and did I have lunch yet because I’m hungry.
When I open my eyes, he’s watching me. The blue-gray color draws me in. He’s so beautiful. He’s smiling at me like he can read my mind. My first impulse is to jump out of his lap. As if anticipating it, the hands that up to this point were loose around me, tighten.
“Good evening, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?”
“I fell asleep on you? You should have woken me up.”
“Why? You looked so comfortable and you needed the rest.”
“How long was I out for?”
“A couple of hours.”
“All that? You couldn’t be comfortable with me on your lap.”
“I’m fine and I enjoyed watching you drool.” He laughs.
“I didn’t drool,” I say, but wipe my mouth anyway.
“And you snore too. This low rumble like a cat purring.”
“I don’t snore either!” I punch him lightly on the shoulder for emphasis.
“Well, if the snore upsets you, guess I shouldn’t tell you about the two farts.” He’s laughing.
I try to punch him again, with a little more conviction this time, but her grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing first the back and then my open palm.
“I’ll have you know, girls don’t fart.”
“No? What do you call that sound coming out of your bottom?”
“We sing. Girls have musical butts. We’re composers.”
His whole body is shaking with laughter and I join in.
I don’t think I have ever had a fart conversation with anyone before and him telling me those things, oddly enough doesn’t embarrass me. But I’m a little nervous maybe I did fart in my sleep. Who knows? Is it possible people fart in their sleep?
He’s reading my thoughts again. “No, you didn’t fart. I might have, though.” He’s laughing even harder now.
“Ewww.” I punch him on the shoulder again.