“It’s not a stretch. Pretty easy to imagine it’s real, at the moment.” Ozzie’s words are raspy, tinged with a bit of emotion even though his smile is as wide as can be. The sight of him there, his broad chest exposed, pajama pants hugging his bottom, is almost like I’m looking at my husband. If this were a movie. But it doesn’t feel like acting anymore. I let my eyes wander because they want to take in all of him: Ozzie’s naked, soft tummy, the subtle whorls of fuzz that lead from his sternum all the way down to the waistband of his pajama pants. He flicks off the light and strides toward his campsite on the floor, the moon shining through the window highlighting the thick muscles of his traps, biceps, and corded forearms. A shiver ripples through my body.
He catches me staring, and I thank god it’s too dark for him to see me blush.
“You wanna playSimsfirst?”
I startle. “What? Oh…” Calm down, Mila. Good grief. He was asking if you wanted to playSimsto help you sleep.
“Oh, that,” I breathe. “No thanks. I’m so freaking tired. Long day.”
“Yeah. Long day,” he says. With a slight backward bend, he stretches his thick arms over his head and lets out a loud yawn. Why is that so sexy?
Fuck. I’m toast.
“I didn’t prep you for how much work it would be. I’m sorry,” he admits with a note of apology in his voice.
Okay, so we’re not going to talk about the kissing, I guess.
I smile. “It’s fine,” I say. “I enjoyed it.”
“Everyone freaking loves you. And your sisters. I have to admit I misjudged them when I first met you. I was wrong when I said I didn’t think you were the Greek life type of girl. They’re all cool as hell for everything they did today. Almost as cool as you.”
I groan and roll to my side, managing to tear my eyes away from that broad body that calls my name the more I stare.
“I’m not sure why. I haven’t done anything. I’m just me.”
The mattress creaks near the foot of the bed, and I feel a heavy weight jostle me and something touching my feet over the blankets. I look over toward my feet, and Ozzie has sat on the foot of the bed and is resting his hands on my feet. I don’t hate it.
“Do you not see why you’re lovable for being you?”
An owl hoots outside while he waits for my response. How…how do I respond to that? My chest tightens. I squeeze my eyes closed. “So corny,” I say, trying to play off all the mushiness. And yet the mush finds its way in and squeezes my heart. Dammit. I could fall in love with this man. I might have already.
How can I when I don’t love myself?
“I hate lying to them,” I say.
He sighs. “They’ll forgive you. Seeing you put Bryan in his place? That alone was worth lying to them.”
Not true. They will all hate me when they find out what I’ve done. Because I feel like I’m in so deep now that they’ll definitely find out at some point.
Maybe I should trust him. Maybe I should follow his lead and let him cover me with all that corniness and mush and affection and let myself be loved? Perhaps I should stop worrying and enjoy this vast, loving, average, weird family while I have it.
“I didn’t mean to show him up. I genuinely enjoy building things. It makes me feel closer to someone I used to know.”
There’s a pause, and then Ozzie asks, “Someone you used to know like an ex?” Do I hear jealousy? How precious.
“My sort-of grandfather.”
“Oh. Good.”
I blow out a wheezy laugh.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t hide it. I get tense when I think about you with another guy.”
“How tense?”
He hears the teasing in my voice. A soft curse leaves his lips, then he clears his throat.
“So, why don’t you tell me about your grandfather-like person you used to know.”