Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I held my breath.
Fighting off tears out of pure joy, I moved aside so Sean could enter my apartment.
He walked to the couch and took a seat on the end. I secured the door, then sat on the cushion beside him.
“Talk? TV?” I asked. “I was watching Shameless before you came over. Ever watch that?”
Sean shook his head. He looked lost.
“That’s okay. All the seasons are on demand right now, so we can start from the beginning.” I snagged the remote off the cushion and cued episode one again, starting it over. “The one girl’s name is Fiona.” I smiled when that grabbed his attention. “If you don’t like it, we can watch something else.”
“Watch what you want.”
“Don’t tempt me. I have four episodes of Sheer Genius saved,” I warned, grinning at his furrowed brow. “Relax. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I got no idea what this is.”
“It’s a reality show focused on hair styling. I never watched it when it originally aired, then I caught some reruns last month. Instantly hooked me. Now I have my DVR set to record them all when they pop on. But it would seriously bore you. Shameless is better.”
“Put on what you want. I’ll sit here.”
I sucked in a breath as my nose started stinging.
Sean just wanted to be here. That was all he wanted. He didn’t care about anything else.
I fought the urge to hug him again and settled for squeezing his knee.
“Which shows do you like to watch?” I asked.
“Don’t know. I never had a TV.”
I slowly turned my head and gaped.
Then before Sean could see it and feel embarrassed, or anything that might make him want to bolt again, I quickly looked away.
“It’s overrated. I don’t even know why I have one. I barely watch it. Most shows are crap.” I peeked over at him without moving my head.
I thought, though I couldn’t be sure without being obvious and actually turning to look, that his mouth was lifted.
That possibility made me seriously happy.
The show started. Sean watched with focus while I watched with half focus, giving him more attention than the Gallaghers.
Then, before I knew it, my long day of haircuts and colors caught up to me, and I’d dozed off at some point during episode two.
I knew this because, when I finally stirred awake and my lashes fluttered open, I saw the on demand menu pulled up, with episode three cued.
Someone just needed to hit play.
I planted my hand to push off the cushion, but feeling a firm thigh under my palm instead of comfy coach, I froze. That was when I registered the feel of breath moving in Sean’s body.
His chest rose under my cheek, slow and steady.
I opened my eyes more.
Sean was still upright, but I wasn’t. I had somehow curled up against his side in my sleep, nearly on top of him. My arm was draped around his waist, my leg was thrown over his knee, and my cheek was pressing to his chest.
I was literally sleeping on Sean.
Tilting my head back, I peered up and saw his head resting against the cushion. Sean’s eyes were closed. He was out cold.
He wasn’t holding me or touching me in any way I wasn’t encouraging. His one arm was draped over the armrest and his other, as I slowly peeled away, I saw was resting on the back of the couch behind me.
One might interpret that as an invitation to cuddle.
Maybe that was exactly what I’d done. Or maybe Sean and I fell asleep simultaneously, and being the natural cuddler I was, I instinctively took the opportunity presented to me.
I couldn’t be sure how this had gone down. I just knew I really didn’t want to move, ever, and furthermore, I really didn’t want to do the very thing I did next.
“Sean,” I whispered, rousing him awake with my touch on his cheek.
Eyes slipping open, he lifted his head while inhaling through his nose, and looked over at me.
“It’s after two in the morning,” I informed him, noticing the time when I’d seen which episode was cued up on the TV. “We fell asleep.”
He sat up more, brought his arm that was behind me down between us, and scrubbed at his face. “Shit,” he muttered, sliding forward. “That show put me out. You were right about TV bein’ crap. Fuck, that was bad.”
My mouth fell open.
He looked over at me and chuckled.
I sighed and melted deeper into the cushion, because Sean laughing inside his chest was a beautiful sound I didn’t hear enough, and I didn’t even care about him insulting my taste in television anymore. That laugh made up for it.
Then, because my sigh was audible and borderline swoony, I played it off so it wasn’t weird by stretching into a yawn.
Sean pushed off from the couch and stood.