For this reason, I ignore my phone when it rings at eight o’clock in the AM, and drift right back to sleep.
“Hey.”
I bat one hand at something tickling my nose.
“Neevah, wake up.”
Another tickle.
I crack one eye open and bring the object of my disruption into focus.
“Canon?” I croak, because you gotta croak at this ungodly hour.
“It’s nine o’clock,” he says. “Not ungodly.”
“Am I talking in my sleep?”
“You’re talking. I’m not sure if you’re asleep. Your eyes are open.”
“They are?”
“Do you see me?” he asks, amused indulgence in his voice.
I pull my pillow over my face. “Not now I don’t. How’d you get in?”
“The usual way. Unlawful entry.”
I poke my head out from under the pillow and stare at him.
“Takira let me in. You are in that deep sleep. I should let you rest.” He stands. “I’ll check in with you later.”
“Wait.” I sit up, the sight of him leaving jostling me from my near-catatonic state. “Why are you here? I thought we were . . . you know, not doing that.”
He crosses back over to sit on the bed again. “I thought we could be extra careful and stealthy on our day off.”
“Like, lay in bed and eat and make love for hours? ’Cause I’m very much down for that.”
His raspy laughter awakens all my below-the-belt parts and makes me shiver. “I had other plans, but if that’s what you want to do.”
He leans over, sinewy forearms on either side of my head, and dips to take my lips possessively. I open my mouth, tangle our tongues and then . . .
“Morning breath,” I mumble against his lips, pushing at his shoulders.
“Don’t care.” He kisses down my neck, nudges the strap of my nightgown aside to lick my collarbone.
“I do.” I laugh and shove him again. “I want to brush my teeth.” I reach up to touch my silk sleep-scarf. “And do my hair and wash my face. We can’t lose the mystery this early in our relationship.”
“Who needs mystery when I can have stale breath and a drooly pillow?”
“I do not drool!” I bop my pillow over his head.
“Okay. Okay.” He tosses the pillow to the floor, grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, pressing me into the mattress with the weight of his chest, of his hard, warm body. “Do you want to hear about my stealthy plans or not?”
“Will there be food?”
“Definitely.”
“Will there be hiking or any physical activity? Because I swear if I have to drag my body up anything today—”