My fingers thread in her hair and she closes her eyes, not wanting to enjoy the strokes, but doing so anyway.
“You don’t smoke anymore,” she announces out of the blue.
“I said I’d quit if you’d keep my lips and hands occupied, and I keep my word, baby.”
“You…really quit because of me?”
“Sure did. Second-hand smoke is a serious threat to your health.”
“You’re more of a serious threat to my health.”
“Too bad you can’t quit me.”
“You never know. Maybe one day I’ll find a better man.”
“I’m the only man you’ll have, so get used to it and stop provoking me.” I stroke her hair. “Go to sleep, little rabbit. We have about seven hours to land.”
One more reason why I don’t go home.
I expect her to fight, but she bends her legs so they’re on my lap and rests her head on my chest.
It’s one of the few times she’s let go without starting drama about being in my company. She says that she wants more, but how can she not see that I’ve been fighting more battles than I signed up for ever since she came along?
“It’s unfair that you feel so safe,” she grumbles as her body relaxes in my hold, and her breaths even out as she falls into a slumber. My nose strokes her hair, breathing in the raspberries mixed with alcohol and I also let myself fall asleep.
Because she feels safe, too.
* * *
The echoof voices swirls around my head like the buzzing of bees.
“Jesus Christ, Glyndon. That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”
My eyes fly open and the first thing I notice is that the weight on top of me is gone and I’m hugging a pillow instead.
Real smooth.
That little rabbit must’ve put the pillow there so I wouldn’t feel the emptiness and wake up right away.
But that’s not the emergency here. It’s Gareth groaning while calling Glyndon’s name.
I lift my head and I have no fucking clue what to name the fucking feeling when I find them sitting around a table a few seats ahead, playing fucking Uno.
But I know it’s too similar to damn relief.
This isn’t even funny anymore. I’m constantly on the edge of murder because of this woman, and the worst part is that she’s the one who’s stopping my demons from acting out.
The screen over my seat indicates that we have about three more hours to land.
“You didn’t tell me about this rule before.” She clutches the cards close to her chest. “You can’t just invent new ones.”
“I’m not inventing.” He shows her the rules card. “It’s right here.”
“Uh, how about a no? You’re cheating!”
“Because you’re losing?”
“I could totally win if you didn’t start inventing rules left and right.”