Charming as Puck(74)

I want to feed her ice cream in bed and torment her by suggesting we call our boys Willoughby and Fitzgerald, just to see her nose wrinkle, and our girls Fairybelle and Kami Junior, spelled with a Q to keep them straight.

I snort softly at my own private joke, and she stirs on top of me, squeezing my dick, still inside her, which lights up my nerve endings again like a Halloween tree made of fireworks.

And now I’m apparently hallucinating, which makes me snort again.

“Do I want to know?” Kami asks sleepily.

Yeah, I’m right there with her. Drifting off into a happy sleep that I haven’t had in a month. “Love you,” I mumble.

I think.

Everything’s hazy now, and she’s so warm and perfect, and I’m never, ever letting her go.

Not even while I sleep.





Thirty-Nine





Kami



I don’t know how long we sleep, but the light coming in my bedroom window is slanted against the far wall when I drift back to awareness.

I lost my jersey but I’m not cold, because Nick’s holding me to his chest. He’s not snoring, but he’s not sleeping quietly either, muttering to himself about blocking biscuits and just try me, fucker.

I smile and kiss his chest, because it’s there.

Did he really say he loves me?

And loves me-loves me, or friend-loves me?

“Snuffle your own beater,” he grunts.

I choke on a giggle, and he bolts straight up in bed. He blinks around the room, and when his gaze lands on me, a sleepy smile spreads over his face. He touches my cheek. “You’re wearing my nipple,” he announces proudly.

My fingers fly to my face, where I have the smooth indentation of sleeping on something that left a mark.

“As long as your mother doesn’t know it’s your nipple, I think I’ll be okay,” I tell him.

He stares at me for a beat, and then we both crack up.

“We had a couple awkward texts the last few days,” I tell him as he pulls me in for a cuddle, which is new, but utterly perfect. “Your mom and I, I mean.”

“She’s cool now,” he assures me. “Felicity pointed out I could’ve brought home three bunnies instead, and you’re now her favorite person in the entire universe. I think she likes you even more than Ares, and that’s hard. She just didn’t really believe we were dating.”

I poke him in the ribs. “You better not be bringing home three bunnies.”

“But you—oh. That kind of bunnies. No, Felicity meant the furry kind. With big ears.”

“Did she?”

“Yep. She knows Mom’s not ready for more animals by the pool.”

I kiss his chest, because it’s there and I can. “You’re a really bad liar.”

“I’m an exceptional liar. You just happen to see right through me.”

“Or you’re not trying very hard.”

“I can give you hard.”

I laugh, because it’s a terrible line, but also not ineffective. Especially when the growing evidence that he’s not lying about giving me hard is right there next to my knee. I give it a little boop right on the tip, boop noise and all, like a great big dork. “You can, can’t you?”

And he does, until my dogs start scratching at the door an hour later.

I brush my hair out of my eyes and wobble on shaky legs to let them in while he steps into the bathroom to discard another condom. Pancake, Dixie, and Tiger all swarm in and overtake the bed, though Tiger needs help, poor thing.

Nick pokes his head out of the bathroom. “Hey, I told you this is a costume party tonight, right?”

“No…”

“Huh. Must’ve forgot. But I got you a costume, so we’re set.”

I fold my arms and look at him.

He grins and leans in my doorway.

And I’m pretty sure it’s not a you’re adorable when you get all Stern Kami while you’re naked grin.

Nope.

That’s a classic Nick Murphy Is Up To Something grin.

“You remember how mad you got when you found Sugarbear at my place?” he asks without an ounce of shame, which sets off even more alarm bells in my head.

“That would be a little difficult to forget. You made me do Mad Kami things.”

His grin is getting wider and wider, and he’s so freaking hot when he’s plotting something, especially when he’s naked and in my bedroom plotting something, and I am completely and totally not immune.

“Mad Kami things like the penguins?” he asks.

“You’re a very deep sleeper, and I’m not nearly as nice as I pretend to be, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re way nicer than any nice that’s ever niced in the nice-iverse,” he tells me, which makes me crack up, even though I’m trying very hard to not fall for whatever he’s up to. “You know Zeus Berger is the one who took Sugarbear from her mama, right?”

“Yes,” I say slowly, because I do know it, but I don’t know what Nick’s plotting.

“He thinks I tried to get him back last week by gluing googly eyes in his locker.”

It takes me a minute to understand what he means. “Wait. Googly eyes, like the kind you get at craft stores for putting eyes on pompom animals and paper people?”