“Aw, is that a strawberry milkshake for me?” she asks, clearly excited as she lets me in.
“I told you I’d bring dessert,” I say and hand it to her. Presley’s smile is breathtaking and she stands up on her tiptoes to kiss me, but I have to lean down in order for her to reach.
“Thank you, Levi.”
‘It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a milkshake, Smarty.’ That’s what I want to say, but I don’t. Presley takes my hand and tugs me into her living room to sit. I take a seat on one end of the couch and she sits on the other, propping her bare feet in my lap as she slurps her milkshake. The action takes me off guard at first, but I don’t pay it too much attention. She’s just getting comfortable.
“Why didn’t you have a good day?” I ask, noticing even her feet are cute with her red toenails.
“Where do I even start?”
Presley goes into detail about her day. She tells me about how she didn’t do well on a paper, and she was upset over that. Then she had to tell Trevor she was still seeing me, and he wasn’t happy about it.
“Enough about my day,” she finishes the talk about her day as well as her milkshake and she sets it on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You’re good at that.”
“What?” I ask, wondering what she’s talking about.
“Massages,” she points to my hands. Apparently, somewhere during her conversation, I started massaging her feet.
“Did you doubt what these hands could do?” I raise an eyebrow and smile my lopsided grin. She shakes her head with a laugh. “Don’t you want to come to my game tomorrow?” If I’m not mistaken, JWU has a game tomorrow as well. McCarthy would be pissed if she missed his game to go to mine.
“Trevor has a game tomorrow.”
“Okay. I just thought I could take you somewhere afterwards too, but it’s cool. I understand.”
“No, I’ll go. I usually go to all of his games, but I didn’t tell him I would go tomorrow. I’ll come to yours. Missing one game of Trev’s won’t hurt him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll just watch whatever’s already in the DVD player, okay?”
I nod and she turns on the TV and the DVD player. A Bourne movie is what we are going to watch. I have to say I’m a little surprised and impressed that that’s the last movie she last played. Presley starts the movie and turns off all the lights. When she gets back to the couch, she lays with her head in my lap. She sure doesn’t mind making herself comfortable, does she? After a second of hesitation about what to do with my hands, I decide to leave one on the armrest and place my other on her hip.
It’s about halfway through the movie. I notice her breathing has slowed and her eyes are closed. She’s fallen asleep. The flickering light from the television illuminates her face, and she looks so peaceful and beautiful. There has to be someway that I can get up without disturbing her. Well, if she sleeps as dead to the world as she did this morning, then I shouldn’t have any problem. I ease myself from under her head and off the couch.
I turn on the lamp and then go to her room. I flip the light switch to see that unlike myself, she doesn’t make her bed every morning. For some reason, that thought and the sight of her strewn covers makes me smile. I pull them out of the way to make room for her before going back to pick up her sleeping body. Her head falls backwards, and I try not to laugh at the sight of her hanging head. When I lay her down, those beautiful brown eyes flutter open.
“Levi?”
“Just go back to sleep,” I whisper as I pull the covers up to her shoulders.
“Stay.” She’s already half asleep, so I co
uld leave without her knowing. When I walk back into the living room, I have a thought. If I leave, her door will be left unlocked. I can’t just leave her here like that. Of course, I have to stay. For her sake. Those are the thoughts that run through my mind as I lock the deadbolt, turn off the lamp in the living room, and return to her bedroom. With a flip of the switch, the room turns pitch black.
I pull out my phone to light my way to her bed. I don’t know if she has an early class tomorrow, but I don’t. After setting my alarm for seven just in case she does, I pull my shirt over my head while slipping off my shoes and take off my pants next. As soon as I crawl into her bed, Presley wraps herself around me as if a magnet was pulling her to me.
“Thanks,” she mumbles before quickly falling asleep.
Presley’s hair is soft against my chest, and I can’t resist touching it with my own fingers. It’s ridiculous how it has an almost silky feel to it. I wonder what she would look like if she put it up in a ponytail. She always wears it down. Does she not like to wear it that way? Why am I even thinking about this? I clear my head of such silly thoughts and soon drift to sleep.
~ ~ ~
These past two nights have been the best sleep I’ve ever had and I always wake up too soon. Groaning, I reach over and shut off my alarm, realizing that someone isn’t in my arms. Patting the space beside me, sure enough I’m alone. Where’s Presley? I frown at the thought because I’m usually a light sleeper and she’s managed to leave the bed without waking me up. It’s still dark in her room, so I turn on the lamp beside her bed and sit up.