Well Played (Well Met #2)(71)

Meanwhile, back on my Facebook feed, my high school BFF Candace’s baby was now walking! “Huzzah,” I said under my breath. She was nearly a year old; should I stop thinking of her as a baby? She was toddling around now—didn’t that qualify a kid as a toddler? I had no idea, but I still left a heart-eyes emoji on the video of the kid stumbling through the living room and almost falling on the dog, because even if we were nothing more than Facebook friends these days, I was at least going to be a good Facebook friend. Spent the day with your little sis, I added as a comment. How is she already in high school?! We’re getting old!

A click of a camera shutter startled me, and I looked up to see Daniel in the middle of my living room, his phone pointed toward me snuggled up in bed with my cat and my phone.

“I’ve pictured this in my head for so many months.” A soft look came to his face as he glanced down at the image he’d captured. “Is this what you looked like, all those times we were messaging each other?”

I hadn’t thought about it like that before. “Usually,” I admitted. “Sometimes I was on the couch on my laptop, but late nights when we would text just before I fell asleep? I’d usually be in bed on my phone.” I patted the mattress. “Right here.”

“Hmmm. Right here, huh?” He dropped his phone onto the side of my bed and ducked into my little bedroom space. “I have to say, I did a pretty good job of picturing you . . .” He crawled onto the bed and up my body at the same time, and I clicked my phone off and set it next to his with a grin as he did so. “. . . But real life is much better than pictures. Just like this . . .” He dipped his head down to kiss me, his mouth lingering on mine. “This is so, so much better than texts.”

“Mmmm, you think?” I grinned against his kiss, and he responded with a nip, his teeth tugging gently on my bottom lip.

“Oh, I think.” His hands glided up my sides, pushing up my tank top, and what do you know, he didn’t complain about my squeaky bedsprings this time around.

Later, I reached for his phone and scrolled through to his photos to the one he took of me earlier. “Okay, I take it back,” I said, sitting up and frowning at the phone. “I usually look better than this. At least I hope I do. I’m deleting this.”

He plucked his phone out of my hand. “Don’t you dare. I need that picture. I need more pictures. In fact, I’m going to purchase more cloud storage so that I can have all the pictures of you on my phone that I can take.”

“Then take a better one.” I pushed the blankets aside.

“Where are you going?” He hooked his hand around my upper arm, stopping me.

“To put on some makeup,” I said. “Maybe even do my hair. If you want pictures of me, I want to not look like a swamp witch in them.”

“Nope.” He tugged on my arm, pulling me back into the bed and into his arms. “You look perfect like this. Your hair’s all tumbled and tangled . . .” He ran his fingers through my hair, which had long since come out of its messy bun from earlier. “Your cheeks are pink, and you have the sweetest smile that I’ve ever seen in my life. I put that look on your face, and I want to document it.” He aimed his phone at me, and even though I made a show of trying to cover my face and wrestle the phone away from him, my heart glowed at his words. How could I say no when he said things like that to me? I even retaliated, picking up my own phone and taking pictures of him too, while he laughed and pretended to protest. He looked so comfortable, so right, here in my bed tangled up in my sheets. It seemed he’d always been here. And in some ways, maybe he had.

As night fell in earnest and my little apartment was lit only by the light of the moon streaming through my skylight and the fairy lights above my bed, I nestled into him and he twirled a long lock of my hair through his fingers. “I don’t know if I can go back.” His voice was hushed, the quiet murmur of a shared secret.

“Then don’t.” I yawned contentedly and traced the line of his breastbone with a lazy fingertip. “Stay. I’m sure the guys can find their own way to Faire in the morning.”

“Oh, I know they can. But that’s not what I meant.” He shifted under the blankets, settling me just a little more into him, turning his head to brush his mouth over my temple. “I mean later. After this Faire is over and I go on to the next one. When all I have of you are texts and emails. Maybe we can go nuts and actually have phone calls or Skype. But I already know it won’t be enough. How can I go back to that after we’ve had this?” His hand skimmed up my arm, warming my skin.

“I know.” An ache rose in my chest. Up until now I’d pushed aside any thought of the end of Faire, choosing instead to concentrate on the good. On Daniel, on how perfect it felt to be with him. Why sully that with the reality of this being just a temporary thing, of knowing he’d be on to the next town as always after just one more week? But it couldn’t be pushed aside anymore. “You could always stick around.” I said it lightly, a joke I could take back quickly. But my heart pounded in my temples at the thought of it. At the thought of Daniel staying in Willow Creek. With me.

“I’d do that in a second.” His arm tightened around me. “I love the small-town vibe of this place.”

“Eh, it gets old after a while.” I couldn’t hide the smile in my voice. “What would you even do in a town like this? Not a lot of bands to manage around here.”