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Wasted Words Page 50
Author: Staci Hart

“We’re lucky our bosses don’t suck.”

“We’re lucky our bosses love whiskey.”

I laughed. “Ugh, it’s so warm right here. Six in the morning shouldn’t exist.”

He ran his hand around my waist and pulled me a little closer. “The early bird doesn’t want to get out of bed?”

“Not when it’s Knight time. Get it? Knight?” I poked his chest.

He laughed, his brown eyes soft. “This weekend’s been …”

“A disaster?” I joked.

“The football game, maybe. But I was going to say unexpected, and in the best possible way.”

My heart fluttered. “I still can’t believe it even happened, which makes it that much harder to get back to the grind.”

He lay down on the pillow next to me again, close enough that his face wasn’t blurry for lack of my glasses. I could see all the little details — the flecks of amber in his dark irises, the occasional blond eyelash, the creases in his lips.

“Are you still worried?” he asked. “About us?”

“Right now, no,” I answered truthfully. “But I worry about when we’re apart. My imagination is … well, it’s big, and it runs away. This scares me.”

He smirked. “You don’t say?”

I chuckled, so thankful he could joke about it when I’d tried to break up with him the night before. Shame washed over me. “Big brains are sometimes a big problem.”

But he smiled. “I love your big brains. The bigger the better, I always say.”

“I love big brains and I cannot lie.” I sang, wiggling my butt as much as I could while laying down.

He tried to spank me as I jiggled, and we laughed. When we’d stilled, he pushed my hair back and trailed his fingers under my ear, down my neck.

“Okay, so you need reassurance. I can reassure you.” He crinkled his eyes in thought. “Let’s see. How can we be together all day and also be at work?” he asked.

“Hmm,” I hummed, thinking. “Pocket voodoo dolls?”

“Too morbid,” he said. “Texting and emailing seems too obvious.”

I chuckled. “So passé.” I got an idea and rolled over onto my back, holding my hand up. I took off my thumb ring and reached for his hand. Problem was, his hand was gigantic — he could basically palm my entire face. But in some twist of fortune, it fit snugly on his left pinkie.

He inspected his hand. “I like it. It kind of puts out that Godfather feel. Does it make me look dangerous?” He made a menacing face.

I laughed. “No.”

Tyler smiled. “Well, I’ve got something of yours, but that doesn’t really help your big brains remember that I think you’re amazing.” His face lit up, and he rolled away from me. “Hang on, I’ve got it.”

I smiled and reached for my glasses, propping myself up in bed as he walked out and back in, climbing back in on top of the covers to lie down on his stomach.

“Give me your hand.”

I laid my small hand in his big one, and he revealed his worn, faded friendship bracelet, smiling like he’d had the best idea ever. I’d never seen him take it off before, not as long as I’d known him. The ties were frayed and crimped where it had been knotted for so long.

I laughed. “Seriously, Tyler? First of all, isn’t it against some law of the universe to recycle a friendship bracelet someone else gave to you?”

He shrugged. “I bought it with my allowance when I went to the Grand Canyon with my family. I was twelve. I got it to give away, but I never wanted to give it to anyone, besides Kyle. But we were in college, and college football players don’t exchange friendship bracelets.”

The thought faltered my smile, and I reached for his face, leaning forward to kiss him. “Okay,” I said, leaning back. “But second problem is that you’re giving me a symbol of friendship to remind me that you think of me as more than a friend.”

He smirked. “Well, if I told you I bought it to give to my one true love, would you believe me?”

I laughed, trying to forget he’d just used the word love. “No, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Good, because it would have been a lie. But really, Cam,” he said as his finger stroked my wrist, his eyes on my hand. “I’ve worn it since I bought it, and for all those years, I wanted to give it to someone. No one’s ever deserved it before, not like you do. Will you wear it?” He met my eyes, his words full of hope, colored with uncertainty.

My chest ached. “Of course I’ll wear it, Tyler.”

He bent and kissed my palm. “Thank you,” he said as he wrapped the bracelet around my wrist and tied it tight. “Now, come on, let me make you some eggs before we start this shitty day. Because the sooner we start, the sooner it’s over and we’re back here together.”

I smiled, feeling a hundred feet tall and bulletproof. “Lead the way.”

I made coffee while he showered, he made the eggs while I watched him. We dressed and headed to the train station together, where he picked me up like he did, with my feet dangling off the ground, kissing me sweetly before we parted ways. I skipped nearly all the way to work, unlocking the door to Wasted Words and humming as I walked through the quiet store and to the office.

Rose was already there, hair in a messy bun, wearing leggings and an oversized sweater, prepared for a day locked in the office, no doubt. She yawned, waving at me when she saw me.

“Morning,” I chimed.

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