Keep It Together

chapter Nine

Chrissie pulled up to her parents’ home. It was a mansion, really. The official mayor’s residence in the historic district of Pembroke was not anywhere near as grand, and her mother had chosen to remain in her own home. Chrissie’s father hadn’t cared one way or the other.

She didn’t know how two people who were seemingly so different could make each other so happy, but somehow, her parents made it work.

Chrissie had wanted for nothing growing up. Her mother was strict and highly opinionated, and her father spoiled the hell out of her. She’d had the best of both worlds and knew they loved her unconditionally.

“I wondered if you were going to make it for lunch.”

“Told you I would, Mama.”

“Yes, you did. You’re running a little late is all.”

“I’m always running a little late.”

“Did you bring the afghans for the shelter?”

Chrissie walked around to the passenger side of her truck. “Of course.” She pulled a box off the seat. “I have eight.”

“That’s more than enough. There will be some extras. You wore a dress.”

“You said dress nice.”

“You don’t always listen to me.”

“True, but I’m not going to embarrass you in front of the garden club, Mama. I know how important these occasions are to you.” Chrissie followed her mother up the grand staircase out front and into the house. Not quite revival and not quite antebellum, the Browning mansion sat atop a small hill in Pembroke, overlooking the quaint little town. A manicured lawn, a formal rose garden to the side, and in back there was a beautiful pool area where Chrissie has spent many summer days and evenings. Most of the rooms were furnished comfortably since the Brownings did a lot of entertaining.

The garden club luncheon would be held out on the back patio where overhead porch fans kept a comfortable breeze blowing at all times. It was a fitting setting for the group of ladies who would be in attendance, and her mother loved to show off the garden when it was in full bloom. Thankfully, it was a clear, mild day that hadn’t become oppressive with heat and humidity. Yet.

For a moment, Chrissie lost herself in the memory of carefree days. She’d had a good childhood. Strict on one end and much more forgiving on the other. Unlike Colt’s parents, hers loved each other deeply, and from all the stories she’d heard, had from the moment they met.

That thought made her smile. Love at first sight. It was a fable for most people, but maybe for a chosen, lucky few, it was a reality. And she couldn’t help but think of Colt in terms of such things. Had she met him before meeting Russ, would they have hit it off immediately? Would there be tales to pass down of love in an instant? She might be a tomboy, but she was also still a girl with fairy-tale dreams. She—

“Appearance is everything, Christina. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I know, Mama,” she said absently when her mother’s words invaded her thoughts and brought her back to the present. To her mother, appearance was everything. From the way one looked to how one reacted to what came out of one’s mouth. “Will Daddy be coming home early today? Joining us ladies for lunch?”

“No. He has several meetings today. He’s meeting with the historic preservation committee right now.”

“Aren’t you part of that committee?”

“I am, but I am here. Honestly, Christina. I can’t be in both places at the same time.”

Chrissie bit back a smile. “No, Mama, I know that.”

“This luncheon was planned well before the historic preservation meeting.”

“Why did you want me to come?” The invitation had arrived yesterday afternoon, and Chrissie still wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t attend any event her mother planned; however, for her mother to call and ask her to come was a little out of the ordinary.

“I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“We talk weekly, Mama. You know how I’m doing.”

“Seeing and talking are two different things. You only live thirty minutes away, though one wouldn’t know it based on how little we actually see of you. Are you still working that job?”

“Yes, Mama.” The lowly retail job selling guns and ammunition bothered Myrtice Browning to no end. She didn’t think her daughter should be working at all, much less at a job meant for a man. Chrissie loved her mother, but the woman’s old-fashioned view of things didn’t always fit in the modern world.

And she would ignore the little guilt trip at not coming home to Pembroke often enough.

“You’re never going to meet a man working in that store,” Myrtice continued.

“You never know.”

“Not a good man, at least.”

“Depends on your definition, I suppose, Mama. Daddy shops in a store like that, and you’re married to him. He’s a pretty good guy.”

“That’s different, and you well know it.”

“Yes, Mama.” It wasn’t different. Not really, but it was better for Chrissie to agree with her mother than argue with her. No one ever won.

“Pick up that tray there and bring it out on the patio. The ladies will be here any minute, and I want everything ready when they get here. No one should have to wait for a beverage in this heat.”

Chrissie shook her head and smiled. She picked up the silver tray with a pitcher of lemonade and a pitcher of tea on its gleaming surface. She walked across the black-and-white checked marble floor, her small kitten heels clicking as she made her way toward the outer doors, and once more marveled that she’d grown up in this huge place.

The walls were painted twice a year. A pretty yellow in the spring and a pretty burgundy in the fall. At the moment, it was yellow and bright and happy. It also seemed to match her dress. Or maybe her dress matched the walls. Chrissie wasn’t sure. Either way, she could almost blend in.

The patio tables were decked out in shades of pink and yellow. Flowers sat in the centers, and each place setting was elegant in china and silver on top of yellow and white or pink and white linen tablecloths with matching napkins.

A buffet table sat against the wrought-iron railing. Tiers of tea sandwiches and crystal bowls of salads sat at equal distances so as to maintain symmetry, a testament to her mother’s obsessive-compulsiveness.

“It looks lovely.”

“It does, yes. Are you seeing anyone?”

The question was tossed in casually. Chrissie looked over at her mother, who stood at the edge of the patio. The dress she wore, white with brilliant springtime flowers, looked like something someone would have worn in the ’50s. Her graying blonde hair was done up in a French twist, and her jewelry was elegant as always. Studs in her ears, pale pink pearls this time, and a simple strand of matching pearls around her throat. She was always so gorgeous, Myrtice Browning, a woman out of the past with past ideals living in the modern world.

It wasn’t that her mother was out of touch, though. There was a certain way she was accustomed to living, to behaving, and she believed it would suit everyone else best if they lived the same way. Including, and especially, Chrissie.

Chrissie knew her mother loved her, but there was also disappointment. She never picked the right man, the right college classes, the right place to live. She definitely hadn’t picked the right job or the right hobbies.

And now, how would Chrissie explain about the man whose bed she’d left a little more than a week ago?

“Yes, I am.” She wondered how Colt would like spending time here in Pembroke, at the mansion, on a summer weekend? Would he enjoy the quiet solitude and lazy afternoons by the pool? Or would he rather be in Savannah, downtown with crowds of people?

She loved the bars and timeless mansions and quaint shops as much as anyone. Savannah had a particular charm that never got old, despite the city’s actual age. There were many places she hadn’t seen, hadn’t toured, many delights she hadn’t yet tasted and there were treasures around every corner. Old movie theaters, old-fashioned soda shops and ice cream parlors. In Savannah, the past was as alive as the present and mingled side by side and walked hand in had with it.

They were surrounded by history, both inside and out. She truly did love the area she’d grown up in and around, and couldn’t see herself living anywhere else. But what would Colt think as far as long term? And should she even be thinking long-term? Lord knows she shouldn’t.

“Anyone we know?”

“Yes,” she answered automatically. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him in the days since he went back home to Texas. He called her once but hadn’t insinuated that he’d been thinking of her in quite the same way. They didn’t talk about Russ coming over, though they probably should. They’d simply talked about his good flight and her job and the rest he hoped she’d gotten. He’d said he’d talk to her again soon, but that had been days ago. She didn’t know what he was feeling or wanting, if he even still wanted her in the ways he’d said he did. She only knew she wanted him and couldn’t get him off her mind, couldn’t erase the memory of his hands on her.

“Well, don’t be stingy with the name, Christina.”

Chrissie turned. She needed to get her head in the here and now instead of continuing to daydream. She looked at her mother. “It’s Colt, Mama.”

“Colt?”

The confused smile on her mother’s face was pretty familiar. When she wasn’t sure or when she disapproved of what was being said, that smile was always in place. Chrissie thought it was probably the former but it could be the latter. “Colt Fisher. Russell’s brother.”

“Oh, honey.” Myrtice clucked her tongue and shook her head. “You shouldn’t be dating him.”

“Mama, please.” Confusion and disapproval both. Chrissie was on a roll today.

“Oh, don’t you ‘Mama please’ me. You know it’s not right.”

“Right or not, Mama, I like him.” More, much more than liked him.

“What about Russell? How will he feel about it? Have you talked to him?”

“Actually, I have. I saw him several days ago, and we talked things out. He knows that Colt and I are seeing one another, and he’s all right with it.”

Myrtice shook her head again and frowned. “I still don’t like this, Christina.”

“I know, but it’s my choice.”

“You know, Russell’s mother didn’t care for us very much. Will you be meeting Colt’s mother?”

“No. She left him and Amber when they were kids.” Nothing more was said for several moments. Chrissie watched as the most put-together woman she’d ever met fought to digest that little tidbit of information. If there was one thing Myrtice Browning valued above putting the best face forward, it was family. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you speechless, Mama.”

“Well, I just… I don’t understand how women can do that. You simply don’t do that. You don’t leave your kids behind. No matter what.”

“People do it all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s right. You marry and have children, you stay with them. End of story.”

“I love you,” Chrissie said as she walked toward her mother and hugged her.

“Careful, Christina,” Myrtice admonished. “Don’t wrinkle us both.” But she wrapped her arms around Chrissie anyway and gave her a tight squeeze. “Maybe that young man just needs the love of a good woman.”

“Yes, Mama. Maybe he does and whatever opinion Russ’s mother has of us, or we of her, she raised Colt well.”

When they parted, Chrissie’s mother was once again composed, but before either could say anything, the doorbell chimed. “She should have done a better job with her own boy,” she murmured. “Let’s keep this quiet for now, Christina. We don’t want gossip. You know I hate that kind of thing, and after that near disaster in December…”

“You can say it, Mama,” Chrissie said softly. Even though the Brownings employed several servants, when it came to parties and other social events, they preferred answering the door personally. Chrissie actually liked the gesture and welcome it provided, each person being made to feel at home as they walked in the door.

“Just smile for our guests, Christina.”

“I always do.”

* * * *

“Did I wake you up?” she asked softly when Colt picked up the phone.

“No, you didn’t. I’m finishing up some work because someone kept me up all night.”

“What did they keep you up doing?”

“Screwing like bunnies.”

“You should learn to control yourself.” His laughter on the other end of the line warmed her insides and melted her like jelly.

“I probably should, but in this case, it’s more like I should learn to control my lover. She was insatiable. She kept waking up and touching me.”

“If you weren’t so gorgeous, maybe she would’ve been able to control herself a little more and keep her hands to herself.” And touching him had been something she couldn’t seem to get under control. He was right about that. But then, as soon as her fingers would do no more than hover over him, he was awake and kissing her, fondling her, eating between her legs.

“You think I’m gorgeous?”

“The secret is out. I only want you for your body.” Then there was the memory of him on her tongue, embedded deeply within her mouth, the head of his cock touching the sensitive tissue at the back of her throat. He was rigid, silk and steel. When he got so close to orgasm and he tried to tug her off, she had held fast and worked him as though he were a drinking straw. She was still wondering how his shout hadn’t woken whoever was in the room next to his.

He’d felt so good and right sleeping next to her, and waking up with him? She’d really like to wake up with him a whole lot more. He was warm and solid, and it had been so long since she’d slept with anyone that she’d thought at first it might take some getting used to, or feel awkward, but no… No, he’d wrapped himself around her, and she’d felt as though she belonged in the curve of his body.

“I’m good with that. What are you doing up? You’re an hour ahead of me.”

“I was about to go to bed. I have been working on some things, trying to clear my head, but I wanted to hear your voice. I—”

“Clear your head of what?” he interrupted.

“I saw my mother today. Attended one of her garden club parties as cohostess.”

“And how did that go? Ready to be Miss Junior Socialite of Pembroke, Georgia?”

“I’m going to ignore that little comment, mister. You know better. She asked if I was dating anyone. I told her yes.” Chrissie heard the rustling of papers coming from the other end of the phone line. She imagined him sitting behind his desk with his hair disheveled as he labored over some problem, his tie unknotted around his neck, his top shirt buttons undone. What am image it was too. She didn’t know if he wore a suit and tie to work, or if he was even in his office at his desk, but that’s where her mind took her, and that’s where it stayed.

“Did you tell her who?”

“I did. She was both shocked and confused, and she was very concerned about how Russ would take the news. I, ah… I saw him too,” she rushed to add. Might as well come clean about it.

“When?”

“After I got off work that day.” The day after the best night of her life. At least, the best sex night of her life. “He pulled in behind me here at the house and we talked. He saw the flowers you sent, asked if I had feelings for you, wondered if he was over me.”

“Are you still? Over him? Did seeing him change anything?”

“No it didn’t. I’m still over him, still happy to be over him.” She paused for a second before asking, “Is that why you haven’t called again?”

“Was giving you time.”

“You’re all about giving me time.”

“I am. I didn’t want to rush something out of you if you needed to think about it.”

“I haven’t been thinking about anything or anyone except you and I was tired of waiting for you to get around to calling me. I can’t have you forgetting the best night of sex that you’ve ever had.” She smiled to herself as she threw her own thoughts of that night onto him.

“Ah, yes. The best night of sex. Definitely don’t want to forget about it, and it was very close to slipping my mind, so it’s a really good thing that you called.”

“Ass,” she muttered into the line.

“Tease,” he muttered right back.

“What are you working on?“

“I just finished the proposal papers for the storefront on Congress Street. I was going to call you up for a night of hot, unbridled phone sex when I was done.”

“You’re buying it? I only thought you were considering it.”

“Leasing it,” he corrected her, “And I was only considering it, but when I was doing the walk-through, I thought it would be the perfect location.”

“Kind of a gut feeling?”

“Exactly a gut feeling.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I’ll be able to buy fresh-baked Corners Cookies soon?”

“If all goes well, within the year, yes.”

“Hot damn. You know, if I didn’t already love you, that would certainly seal the deal.” Chrissie immediately closed her eyes and bit down so hard on her tongue she tasted blood.

Oh God. Oh. God. OH. GOD.

“What?” The question was barely a whisper over the phone line, and Chrissie understood the loss of air in his lungs. It was gone from hers too. The stillness surrounding her in that moment was unlike anything she’d ever felt. She wasn’t uncertain about her feelings, but saying them out loud like that when she wasn’t sure of his feelings for her…

Oh God.

“I, ah… I actually said that, didn’t I?” Not that it had been planned. She wasn’t aware she’d even been thinking it at the time the words spilled out of her mouth. She couldn’t take it back either. She didn’t want to, but the option was gone.

“Yes, you did,” he confirmed.

“I… I, um… Oh boy. Colt—”

“Did you mean it?” Colt interrupted. His voice sounded as though he’d swallowed a handful of gravel and not brimming with the quiet confidence Chrissie had come to expect from him. She imagined her pause wasn’t making things any better.

“Yes. As strange as it is, yes. I meant them. I love you.” She never thought she’d say those words again. At least not to anyone but her parents. She certainly never thought she’d say them to Colt, to Russ’s brother, to a man who could hurt her and break her heart. But there she was, putting herself out there. It was just like the condom. Or rather it was slightly more important than the condom, or just as important but in a different way. She’d brought it hoping he’d take the rather obvious hint that she wanted him, and now she’d put an “I love you” out in the open.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her. She was forward and taking a huge chance when rejection could once again rear its ugly head.

In truth, she had a feeling too. A gut feeling about him, the way he had one about the storefront. They were both going for it, for what they wanted, no matter how it ended up. He was the one she thought about when she woke up every morning, and while she’d not tried to get in touch with him, when he’d shown up at her house… Well, she’d taken that as a sign that he had that same instinct about her.

“You just keep surprising me,” he said softly. Hearing his voice in her ear wasn’t as good as having him in person, but she’d take it.

“Yeah, well. I keep surprising myself,” she confirmed. She was trying to keep her voice strong, but with every heartbeat that thumped by, she was losing hope that he was in the same place emotionally as she was, at least a little, which was ridiculous. She knew he cared about her. He’d come to see her, told her he wanted to marry her. She just got the words out first. But they were real, those three little words, as real as the feelings coursing through her.

“I guess since you put it out there, I should respond in some way beyond my own gasps for air.”

His tone was almost back to normal, and she tried for a smile in her own. “That would be nice.”

“I was hoping to do so in person the next time I saw you.”

She felt a modicum of relief. “But you do feel something, right? I’m not alone in this?”

“Baby, you’ve never been alone in this. You know that.”

“I…I do. I just… I’ve never said it first, and I never meant to say it quite so abruptly.”

“I think it’s wonderful and perfect.”

“So, I shouldn’t take it back?”

“No. Not now, not ever. You should in fact say it more and say it often.”

Chrissie laughed softly. “When will you be coming back?” Did he hear how eager she was? Because she heard it, loud and clear.

“In about ten days. I have several big meetings I can’t miss, but as soon as I can, I’ll be on a plane.”

“Can we talk in the meantime? Text? Something, anything? I haven’t liked the silence.”

He chuckled, and the pang in her middle at missing him was almost more than she wanted to bear. At the same time, she loved missing him, loved that she cared enough about him to miss him, to want him with her, to need him.

“Yes. We won’t go a day without touching base in one form or another.”

“I’ve never met a man like you.”

“That’s a good thing. I like being unique, but if you’ll allow me, for just a moment, to be rather cliché… What are you wearing?”

“I’m naked,” she whispered.

“Are you really?”

“Yes.” She refused to be shy about it or lie about it.

“So, you’ve been laying in bed naked while we’ve been having this serious conversation?”

“Not laying in bed, no. Sitting on the edge, ready to bolt up and get dressed at the slightest hint that you weren’t interested in me anymore.”

“Well, clearly that’s not the case. Any particular reason you called me while you’re naked?”

“Yes.”

“Care to tell me?”

“I missed you.”

“Miss me or my gorgeous body?”

Chrissie laughed and crawled into the middle of the bed. “Both.”

“So you want me to help you ease the ache missing me has caused?”

“I would love it if you would help me and besides, you said you were going to call me for phone sex. I just beat you to it.”

“How much?”

She was slightly confused. “How much what?”

“How much would you love it?”

“So, so much, Colt.” She’d never called a man for phone sex before, and she’d stripped, then dialed his number before she lost her nerve. She had her windows open, and a warm summer breeze floated in. Her skin tingled with anticipation. Her nipples were pointed, her p-ssy was wet, and both were in need of attention.

Masturbating in front of or for someone were things she’d never done, and much as she wanted to come, she hoped she could go through with it. More than that, she hoped he would take her up on it.

“Then I suggest you get comfortable. Tell me about your bed.”

“Are you going to get comfortable too?”

“You mean naked? No. There are still people milling around the office and anyone could walk in.”

Ah, so he was in his office. Something about the image in her head from earlier being validated in some small way made her smile. “You can lock the door.”

“If the door had a lock, yes, I could, but oddly enough when we moved into this building, one of the things we found was that none of the doors other than the outside doors had locks. I might look into it for the future though. Tell me about your bed.”

“It’s old. At least the frame is. It’s wrought iron, painted white. There’s very intricate scrollwork in the headboard, and the footboard is just bars. The mattress and box springs are only about a year old.”

“Has anyone else slept in it with you?”

Did he mean Russ? “No.”

“Good girl. Why don’t you tease your nipples for me? Take one and roll it between your fingers, then give it a good pinch and tug.”

Chrissie did as he told her. It was somewhat embarrassing to be doing this, but at the same time, it felt good, and she liked it. She still didn’t know if she could do it with him, in front of him, but on the phone, yeah, she could be his little puppet.

Toying with her right nipple shot thrilling sensations down through her belly to stop between her legs. She applied pressure just as he had in the hotel room, but it wasn’t as strong as his touch. She eased up, rubbed her palm lightly across the tip, and wiggled as the sensations once again flowed through her. She couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from her throat either.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying it, baby.”

“I am. I just switched nipples, and the sensitivity isn’t as strong in the left one, but it still feels very good.” “Good” didn’t quite cover what she was feeling both inside and out. The tingling in her nipples wasn’t even the half of it.

She felt free, sexy, playful. It was different than with other lovers, and she liked it. It felt natural with Colt. Everything felt natural with him. Even right down to calling him in the middle of the night while she was naked and evidently hornier than she’d thought.

“Now, how about going lower, lazy fingers stroking the underside of your breasts, down—”

“I thought you liked the word ‘tits.’” Damn, Chrissie, could you be any more bold? He chuckled and hesitated for just a split second, and she wondered if she’d said something untoward but shrugged it away. Now was not the time to worry over things that didn’t matter. He liked the word “tits.” He liked the words “breasts” and “boobs.”

“I do. Do you?”

“Doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to be so clean in sex with me.”

“Very well, but what was I saying? Oh yes, lazy fingers stroking the underside of your tits, lower to your belly, down over your hips. Don’t touch your p-ssy, though. Not yet.”

“Oooohhh,” she whined. “That’s where I want to touch most.”

“Exactly why I said not to, baby. How’s that feel?”

“Like a tease.” But it felt incredible too. Goose bumps covered her skin, and she couldn’t keep her legs still. She wanted to open them, spread them wide, but if she did that before he told her to, she’d dive into her p-ssy with eager fingers.

“It’s supposed to feel that way. It’s supposed to make you anticipate the moment your p-ssy is available to me, the moment my fingers or tongue might touch it and ease the ache you feel.”

“I’ve never had phone sex before, but I think this should become a nightly thing when you’re far away.”

“It can. I’ll make sure to be in my apartment next time.”

“Are there really so many people around that you might get caught?” She wanted to know he was gaining pleasure from this play too. She didn’t want him to feel like he was the only one who could talk dirty. She didn’t want him to feel it was unfair.

“My office walls are glass, no blinds. And don’t you worry your very pretty head about me. I’ll be making a very big mess when I get upstairs.”

For some reason that aroused her even more. “Promise?”

“Oh, yes ma’am, I do. I’m f*cking hard in my extremely expensive pants behind my equally expensive desk inside my extremely exposed office. So yes, as soon as I hang up with you and as soon as I get this last bit of paperwork signed and taken care of, I’ll be headed upstairs in my private elevator.”

“What will you do?”

“This isn’t about me.”

True, it wasn’t, but… “What if I want it to be?”

“So, you’d rather hear me tell you how I’m going to wrap my hand around my cock, how I’m going to stroke it hard and fast? You want to hear me talk about how it drips precum from the tip every time I remember what your pretty pink p-ssy tastes like, how it pulls me in and surrounds me with heat and creamy wetness?”

“Oh God, Colt, yeah. Yeah, that’s what I want to hear. That’s so hot, I’ve never… I…” She wanted him to keep talking. She could listen to his voice forever and still want him to keep talking. The Texas twang. She’d heard it before, deep and low, talking sex, but there was something about hearing it over the phone that made it reverberate through her body, that made it vibrate along her nerve endings that ended with her *.

“Dig into it, baby. Go after that orgasm. I’m right here. Spread open for me.”

“I am. I couldn’t help myself. Listening to you, I couldn’t stop my legs from parting on the sheets.”

“Good girl. You playing with it? Your p-ssy? You touching it, getting your fingers all nice and wet? You ready to stroke that *, baby, that little pearl, and call out my name?”

“F*ck, Colt.” His words. The more he talked, the wetter she seemed to get. She wanted that feeling to last and last, that arousal to keep building, but the more she fingered herself to his voice and his desire, the closer she came.

“That’s it. Louder, though. You can scream at the top of your lungs, and no one will hear you.”

Her breath sawed in and out. Her nipples reached for the ceiling. Her legs were restless on the bed, and more than anything she wanted him there with her, in her bed, in her body. She wanted him so damn much, so f*cking much… She plucked at her * and then, it happened.

She dropped the phone. She screamed loud and long. She came with an intensity she’d never experienced before while masturbating.

“Chrissie? Baby?”

She heard the muffled sound of Colt’s voice and scrabbled to pick up the phone. Her fingers were still trembling when she finally lifted it to her ear. “Hi,” she said shyly.

“Was it good?”

The smile in his voice was so delicious to hear. “Yes. It was so good. Can we do it again tomorrow?”

He chuckled low. “We most definitely can.”

“Are you still going to do it when you go upstairs?”

“No, I’m not, because it would appear that without even touching myself I’ve come all inside my boxers. Apparently, listening to you holler and carry on like that turned me on so much that I need to go upstairs now and clean up.”

Chrissie giggled into the phone. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, it’s quite evident you are.”

She crawled under the covers and snuggled into the pillow. She was relaxed, sated, pleasured. He gave that to her. “No, really, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare. I loved ever last second of it, baby. You go to sleep, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Are we… Colt,” she said around a yawn, “are we a thing?”

“A thing? No. We’re an us. We’re a couple. We’re together. We’re not a thing.”

“Oh. Good. I want to be more than a thing. G’night.”

“Good night, baby.”