MY BODY IS STILL heavy with sleep, even after succumbing to a two-hour nap.
Lily and I stayed up until dawn. The last time we stayed awake that long was the night of the bonfire in Brazil. I wish we could go back to that night when I first tasted Lily under a starry sky instead of spending the entire evening chewing away at every hypothetical scenario for how Lily’s work was stolen and how to fix it.
I hate that I can’t find the asshole who did this straightaway. It’s fucked up that someone could easily plagiarize her writing and claim it as their own.
How does a legitimate company not have a process for preventing this?
Maybe there’s an idea here. An app that allows authors to upload their book and print it anywhere in the world. Better than going to individual printing presses. A plagiarism scanner would need to be included. If this happened to my author girl, it has to be happening to others.
I’ll have to look into it.
I know Lily hasn’t come around to the idea of me helping directly—her independence is both admirable and wildly annoying—but I’ve managed to hack away at some of that stubbornness for the time being. I’m not planning on stopping any time soon.
She’s my everything. I may not truly understand what it means to be in love yet, but giving her my all feels like the right thing. It’s what I want to do.
“Hey, Lil?” I tap a faint knock on her door before opening it slightly and peeking inside her room.
Where is she?
Our dinner reservation starts soon, and I found two tickets to a local concert right afterward. Staying inside and stewing until we hear back from Villa Printers won’t do either of us any good.
“Lily?” I try again, stepping fully into the darkness. “Princesa, are you in here?”
I flick on the overhead light. A soft moan echoes beneath a pile of covers on her bed. I sit beside the blankets, running my hand over the fabric until I locate her body. “Let’s get going. There’s a steaming bowl of noodles waiting for you.”
She grunts in response.
“I can help you get ready.” Another grunt.
Okay. Plan B: Make Agent Lily Smile is in full effect. “Do you want to ditch the restaurant altogether?” I ask.
The smallest yes sounds beneath the sheets, and every bone in my body aches to give her a solution.
“Alright, love.” I rise off the bed, only temporarily leaving her in the blanket burrito she’s decided to call home. “We’ll stay in tonight.”
The moment my foot passes the threshold of her doorway, I spring into action.
In a half hour, every pillow in our suite has been dragged into my bedroom and tucked into the small fort I finagled out of some spare sheets. I take one last glance around to make sure everything is in perfect form.
Bowls of instant ramen sit on the table beside as many of Lily’s snacks as I could find at the corner store: the cheesy popcorn that gets stuck in her teeth, the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos that leave radioactive dust clinging to her fingers for days, and every dessert that was available from the Michelin-star restaurant in the hotel lobby downstairs.
Lights are dimmed adequately. Floral candles are spread around the room, creating the perfect cozy atmosphere.
And last, but certainly not least, the outrageously expensive snail mucin masks she adores are spread out on the bed.
Who would spend fifty dollars on one packet of snail goop?
Ah, who am I kidding? If she wanted to swipe my credit card for llama spit eye cream that cost a thousand dollars, I’d buy her as many bottles as her little heart desired.
I cross the hallway and stroll back into her room again before stripping the covers off her curled-up body.
“Go away,” she sighs, yanking one of the pillows over her face and scrunching into an even tighter ball.
“Come on, baby, get up.”
“Please just let me sulk.” She peeks over the pillow, her eyes red and puffy.
The sight of her like this sparks visceral anger in my blood. I hate that someone hurt my girl.
“You can sulk all you want, but you’re not doing it alone.” I pull her warm body into my arms and lift her off the bed.
Lily doesn’t even try to resist. No protests. No pounding fists on my chest. No biting.
This is bad.
We enter my room, and Lily opens her eyes, peeking around the little sanctuary. “What’s all this?”
“A distraction.” I set Lily on the bed and swiftly collect the remaining blankets and pillows out of her room. I return before she thinks of an excuse to escape my surprise. “You said you’ve been wanting to spend the night in bed eating ramen and snacks, so here we are.”
“That was months ago.” Her voice is soft and gentle.
“Well, if I remember correctly, you had this whole list of things you wanted to do. Pretty sure it included getting fucked and hanging out. So we’ve done the first portion of your list. Now we can do the rest.”
She blinks at the television. “Notting Hill?” Lily perches against the headboard, piling blankets on herself like the room is a frozen tundra. “You hate this one.”
“I don’t hate it. I just don’t understand how the actress sees him for a total of…what, five times before she professes her love to the bookstore owner.” My hands make quick work of tucking her in and easing pillows behind her back to help her sit up. “You need to explain it to me.”
“People fall in love in all sorts of ways. There’s no use trying to understand how and who your heart will pull toward. It’s why romance is fun. It’s entirely unpredictable.”
Like her. Like us.
Lily’s face pulls into a brief smile. It’s nice to see some life come back in her. “Wait, did you get cake?” She leans forward out of her blanket cocoon.
“Triple chocolate fudge from Lua.”
“I love that one.” Lily half whimpers, half sighs as she slumps back into the castle of pillows around her.
I lower the overhead lights, grab the remote off the console, and join her in bed.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You got it, kid.” My finger clicks the play button, and the beginning credits of the movie roll.
She glances over at me. “How many times do I have to remind you that I’m older than you?”
For the rest of my life, if you’ll allow it.
“You do enjoy those age-gap romances.” I shoot her a wink, and her eyes return to the movie.
The surprisingly dark scene about who gets the last brownie ends, and Lily laughs, finally.
“See, I don’t understand how you don’t understand rom-coms.” She tentatively reaches for the cake before pulling it into her lap. I grab a spoon for her and hand it over. “Is it because there aren’t any ghosts or sharp weapons?”
“You may not like horror movies, Lil, but I hate to break it to you—half this movie has been dark humor.”
“And to me, it’s perfect.” You’re perfect. “Sorry it’s not some dude wearing a hockey mask while slaughtering his camp counselors. At least people fall in love in my movies.” Lily takes a big bite out of her chocolate cake.
“Never realized you were such a sappy romantic.”
Lily nudges me, playfulness sparking back up in her eyes. “Shhh, no talking during the movie.”
“Well, just so you know, I’ll always give you the last brownie, unlike in the movie.” She smiles in response. It’s a smile filled with fudge-stained teeth but my favorite one nonetheless. As she lifts another heap of cake to her lips, I intercept it and eat the entire sliver instead. “So long as you let me get a bite.”
Sometime during the montage sequence in the film, Lily puts on one of her snail masks, convincing me to do the same.
I wonder if, by the end of the summer, Lily will grow to accept the idea of us instead of running away from it—no matter how messy and unpredictable it could be.
It could be just us on a chilly day in December, making pancakes and watching movies on our couch in front of our television before catching a flight the next day to ski in the Swiss Alps. Lily could write her books, and I could work on something remotely revolutionary.
A life shared with a person I can call home.
The desire is surreal, and I ache for the opportunity to have it.
I understand the film in its entirety. There’s something safe and comforting knowing after all the shit, the trials and tribulations, a happy ending awaits two people who care about each other as much as we do.
I peek over at Lily, who grins as she tosses popcorn into her mouth. Most attempts fail. Kernels litter the fort of cushions around us. We’ll have to work on her aim after the Villa Printers fiasco concludes.
The movie ends.
“Ahh, it gets better every single time.” She smiles, and I turn toward her, but the tilt of my head forces a strange tingling along my jaw.
Are sheet masks supposed to burn?
“Nico.” Lily rears back, her eyes wide with confusion. “What’s wrong with your face?”
“Interesting way to compliment someone.”
“You’re puffed up like a balloon. It must be the skincare. Are you allergic to something?”
I rip off the damp cloth on my face. The fresh air soothes my flesh. I pluck the metal spoon out of the last slice of cake, lick away the chocolate, and stare at my reflection.
My eyes are swollen, and my lips are the size of boiled hot dogs. I run my fingers over the inflamed flesh, and it’s scorching hot.
“Oh, that’s not good.” I run to the bathroom with Lily at my heels. I don’t recognize the reflection in the mirror. My face has multiplied in size. Hysterical laughter rolls out of me. “I understand the purpose of Jason’s hockey mask now.”
“Not funny. You look like a microwaved marshmallow.” Lily shucks off her own face mask, looking as beautiful as always.
“Do you really think it was the mask?” I rinse a nearby towel in some water and try to wipe off the remnants of snail mucus still clinging to my flesh.
“We did have a lot of snacks. Maybe you ate something weird. Are you feeling okay? Is your throat closing up?”
“I think I’ll feel a lot better after a quick kiss.” I pucker my lips and turn to her, presenting her with my numb face.
“Be serious.” Lily whacks me in the chest. “I’m getting an antihistamine.”
When she leaves the room, I dig around for the discarded skincare packets, then skim the ingredients.
“Take this.” Lily hands over a small pill, and I swallow it.
“Found the culprit.” I hold the package up to her eyes. “Lavender.”
“Of course you’re allergic to something with calming effects.” She tosses the packet and cleans the residue off my skin. “Come back to bed. I’ll get you some ice, and we’ll watch another movie until the swelling goes down.”
 |
“GOOD MOR—” One of my hands spreads across the bed, feeling around the sheets for her. Except the spot where Lily was nestled last night is cold and empty. I drag the covers off the mattress, searching for her between the bundles of blankets.
She’s not here. “Lily?”
I could’ve sworn we’d made progress. For fuck’s sake, she was the one who cuddled up close to me and dozed off halfway into Misery.
My feet march across the hall and into her bedroom. She’s splayed across the mattress, scrolling on her ancient laptop.
“You’re up.” She smiles, but it flattens as I storm toward her. “What are you doing?” she yelps as I scoop her into my arms. Her limbs lazily attempt to fight my grasp. I loosen my hold around her and meet her glare with my own.
“Why’d you leave?” I snap, entirely not meaning to have my words strike her like a frying pan.
She rolls her eyes at me. “We said we aren’t going to sleep together— rule number one.”
“We already slept together,” I remind her.
“Come on, don’t do this, Nico.” Lily attempts a slothful wiggle out of my arms. “We agreed.”
“Before you fell asleep in my bed, princesa.”
“It was an accident. Blame it on exhaustion. I’ve had a long twenty-four hours.” She glances away from me, staring at nothing particular.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
“It’ll complicate things between my book and seeing Avery next week and every other reason beneath the sun. Everything will turn complicated, Nico. We aren’t even together like that.”
The words hurt more than I care to admit, but her defenses flare anytime she lets me in.
“Are we really living in a time when I can spend hours inside you and get a matching tattoo with you, but asking you not to leave after we fall asleep together is too fucking much to deal with?”
She frowns. “That’s the problem. We didn’t even have sex. We just fell asleep.”
“I can rectify that right now.” I yank her over my shoulder, which, as expected, only annoys her more.
She kicks and shouts a string of colorful names for me.
“We shouldn’t do this, Nico.” Lily’s body gently lands on my mattress, and she sits up, straightening her spine. False defiance paints her face as her fingers run over the cover’s soft texture. “It’s all becoming too messy to manage.”
“You can try and lie to me all you want, pretty girl.” I lie down beside her, and the stiffness in her posture loosens immediately. “But I’m not convinced you don’t want to be in my arms right now.”
“It’s not about what I want.” She sighs. “It’s about everything else.”
“Slow down, love.” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close.
Lily shuffles into a comfortable position, tugging a pillow beneath her head and scooting her back against my chest.
“I just want to feel you close,” I say. “Is that alright?” “Just this once.”
Yeah, I’ve heard those words before.
