The Art of Losing(78)

His smile widened. “So you’re part of my superhero team?”

“I’m definitely on Team Raf,” I said. “I know our timing sucks, but I don’t want to wait for it to be better.”

Raf squeezed my hand. “Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere except here, with you.”

“Me too,” I said, leaning into his side.

“Actually, I’d rather be inside, in bed,” he said. I turned to look up at him. He was blushing again. “I mean, with you, but also because I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Oh, right,” I said, gesturing to the comic I still held in my free hand. “What inspired you to do this last night? I wasn’t asking you to illustrate it. You didn’t have to do anything except text me back and I would have come running.”

Raf shook his head. “Don’t you get it?” he said with a note of exasperation in his voice. “You’re worth more than a text. One declaration of love deserves something equally heartfelt in return.”

I got it now. His gesture was small. Less expensive than Mike’s gestures were. Less embarrassing. More Harley-sized. Because he knew me. He knew when to push me and when to leave me be, even if he couldn’t do it for himself. But I could do it for him. We could push each other to be better.

“How did it feel to write again?” he said with a small, knowing smile.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you just trying to get me to tell you that you were right?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I was, wasn’t I? You liked it?”

“Fine, yes,” I said with a sigh. “You were right, okay?”

His face brightened. “I love hearing you say that.”

I scooted closer to him, until we were inches apart, and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his chin. And then his cheek, and right next to his mouth. “You. Were. Right,” I said to punctuate each kiss.

And when he turned, ravenously covering my lips with his, I responded with equal hunger.

Later, I tried my hardest not to feel embarrassed or awkward as I lay next to him. I didn’t try to cover myself up, to shield my stomach with my arms or put my shirt on. I left the lights on and tried to enjoy the appreciative look in his eyes when he looked at me. And I looked at him, at his perfections and imperfections both, and I loved every inch.

Raf fell asleep pretty quickly. I couldn’t blame him. And yet despite my late-night and early-morning activities, I was too keyed up to sleep. I smoothed the hair from Raf’s forehead and kissed him softly as I decided to head home, but I realized I was trapped against the wall and would have to climb over him to get out.

“Hey, Raf,” I whispered. I poked him softly in the ribs. “I need to get up. Wake up.”

He groaned and turned on his side, facing away from me like a petulant kid who doesn’t want to go to school. I curled against his back, big spoon to his little, and kissed his neck. I ran my hand down his stomach, and by the time I reached his pelvic bone, he was awake again.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He was suddenly very still as I let my hand rest on his hip.

“I needed you to wake up,” I said. I used his body to pull myself up and over him to the other side of the bed. But he caught me around the waist before I could stand up and held me against his chest.

“Don’t go,” he said, his breath soft on my ear. I melted into him, letting his lips on my shoulder hold me like a magnet.

“Okay,” I said. I settled against his side, tucked under his arm. “Hey, I thought of a new name for you to write. Super-Raf. But you can write it like Super-AF.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest. “That’s ridiculous,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Maybe you can write the comics, but leave the naming of characters to someone else.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, I’ll keep working on it.”

I smiled against his chest as I listened to his breathing deepen. And this time when he fell asleep, I was on the edge of the bed and was able to get dressed and escape out the door without waking him. I left a quick note on his bedside table (You don’t snore. Bonus points! Love, H) and closed the door softly behind me. I headed toward my house, deciding to take my good mood to the people. I’d been such a massive downer for the last few months, since long before the accident, and I figured the best way to remove some of that guilt and redeem myself was through food.

My first destination was Cassidy’s house, but I stopped by The Flakey Pastry on my way. Samir and Will were working behind the counter, and I had to wait for them to stop bickering before I could order.

“Relationships are a marathon, not a sprint,” Samir was saying. “You must be good to Cassidy and make an honest woman out of her.”

Will’s face went red. “Samir, man, I’m nineteen. I’m not ready to get married.”

Samir shook his head sadly. “You can’t keep dating forever,” he said. “Before long, you’ll be an old man like me.”

I laughed, because Samir was only in his forties, and they both turned to look at me. Will’s face went even redder.

“Don’t worry, Will,” I said. “I don’t think Cassidy’s got the marriage itch yet, either.”

He nodded and gave me a small wave before making an excuse and ducking into the break room.