“No need to apologize,” she assures me, blinking, trying to disguise the fact that she teared up. “I sort of wish I could. I do wonder what it would be like, just… not curious enough to foot that bill.”
Since I don’t want her to be upset, I try to joke with her. “Maybe we need to get you drunk first.”
Chuckling faintly, she shakes her head. “That doesn’t work. I’ve tried. The most memorable time, I was standing on a wooden chair, leading a room of drunken strangers in a heartfelt rendition of I Believe I Can Fly. It was… not a night of good decision-making.”
“Oh, my God, I want to see that,” I tell her, grinning.
“If I could play the memory for you… no, actually, I wouldn’t share it.”
“R. Kelly, huh? My life will be meaningless if I never get to see you drunkenly bumping to R. Kelly.”
“Then I apologize in advance for the meaninglessness of your life,” she says solemnly.
“You should, it’s entirely your fault.” Closing my eyes, I start to hum the music, a helpless smile creeping across my face as I envision Virginia standing on the table at the restaurant, drunkenly belting it out. “You know what? Never mind, I can see it.”
“No,” she says, reaching over and covering my closed eyes. “Stop looking. Stop imagining it. It’s terrible.”
I shove her hand away. “Wait, it’s getting good.”
“Rafe,” she whines.
“Did you spread your arms like wings? I bet you did, didn’t you? Yep, you are now, I can see it. Oh, shit, you stumbled. That’s okay, no one noticed.”
Growling at me, she swats me in the stomach. “I’m glad you’re drunk. You won’t remember this. That’s the only good thing I can take away from this right now.”
“Oh, I’ll remember. I’ll let you think I don’t, and just when you think you’re safe, I’m going to walk up behind you while you’re making a salad for your table and start singing it in your ear.”
She covers her face, trying to hide her grin. “Oh, God. I’ll die.”
“I’ve got you now,” I tell her, smugly.
I’m caught completely off guard, and somehow it hits me in the gut, but she giggles. Actually giggles. Then she peeks over at me, affection in her eyes, and all of a sudden my chest feels really fucking weird. That’s the cutest fucking sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I’ve heard lots of giggles, most of them fake, but that’s the purest sound of enjoyment I’ve ever triggered in another person, I know that for a fact.
Since she doesn’t know that, and I’ve finally stopped harassing her long enough for her to have an opening, she curls up on her side of the bed, on top of the covers. Her body placement seems deliberate to keep me from trying to grab her and drag her close, but I wouldn’t now anyway. I made her almost cry, and I made her laugh, and I like the last one a whole lot better. I’ll keep my hands to myself and let her keep looking at me like I’m the funniest man she’s ever met.
“Want me to go get you that water?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m good.”
“Okay.” With one more fond smile, she says, “Good night, Rafe.”
“Good night, Virginia.”