“You can tick that one off.” She snuffled, and it made him smile.
“I’ll hate me tomorrow, but I like being here with you.”
“You’re not that drunk.” He liked it too. Too much.
Getting out of bed, he refilled the glass of water and made her drink that down too.
“You’re a bear who rarely speaks. But in a good way.” She fell forward, resting her forehead on his chest.
“There’s a good way?”
“You’re not the bad guy you want people to see.”
“I really am.”
“A bad guy doesn’t keep a pony and her duck and read to them.”
She had him there.
“Nash?”
“Luna.” It felt far too good just holding her while she laid her cheek on his chest. He was sure they’d both regret it in the morning.
“I don’t know how to not be uptight and controlling.”
And that was way too heavy for him to deal with. Him, the emotional void of his family, who rarely involved himself in anything that made him uncomfortable. Which was pretty much everything.
“But I need to.”
“I’m not following as to why you can’t make changes in your life if it’s your life,” Nash said. It sounded simple to him.
“Because…” Her words fell away. “Because people,” she said.
“People?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, looking up him with sad eyes. It nearly killed him to see her like that. “And I-I don’t remember doing the things?”
“Things?”
She reeled off a list of things. Between hiccups and slurring he understood that she’d been making mistakes lately and couldn’t work out how.
“I think the morning is soon enough to think about this.” He laid her back. “Sleep now. I’m going to grab a shower because I smell nearly as bad as you did.”
She watched him grab some clothes and walk into the bathroom. Once there, he showered and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Usually he slept naked, but that wasn’t happening tonight.
Her eyes were closed when he came out, and she was snoring softly. Oh, the money he could make from that video too, Nash thought, switching off lights. He lay down beside her. He’d wake early and head outside before she knew they’d shared a bed.
Closing his eyes, he refused to roll on his side and look at her. It was dark, but he had no curtains, so moonlight would show him what she looked like. Nash had a feeling sleep for him tonight would be a long way off.
...
He woke as the sun rose in the sky with a warm feeling down his right side. Looking down, he saw Luna had moved to his side of the bed and was now pressed to his side. His arm was along the pillows, and her face was in his armpit. Not a place he’d ever want to be.
One of her hands lay on his chest, long fingers splayed, her nails polished pink. Nash tried to move. Her eyes opened and locked on his.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“You don’t need to worship me, really. Just plain old Nash will do.”