Close to You

“Hello, ladies.”

“You’re just in time!” Cami says with a smile and staggers to her feet, then gives me a big hug.

“I am?”

“Yep, lover boy,” Kat says, and lifts her bottle of wine. “We’ve painted the pantry.”

“Say that five times fast,” Cami says with a giggle. “Painted the pantry. Painted the pantry. Printed the pinto.”

“Ha! Printed the pinto.” Kat laughs.

“I like the color,” I reply, admiring the deep coral that looks happy and cheerful in the nice-sized pantry.

“Me too,” Cami says happily. “It’s pretty.”

“Your kitchen is a hot mess,” Kat says with a frown as she walks out of the pantry and throws her empty bottle of wine in the trash. “This is going to require a small army.”

“Or a box of matches,” Cami says. “I could burn it all down and start over.”

“But we just planted a pantry,” Kat replies, then snorts. “Boy, we’re drunk.”

“Drunk painting is good for the soul,” Cami says, smiling up at me. “You’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” I drag my fingertips down her cheek and she snuggles close to me. “I don’t think guys are supposed to be pretty.”

“But you are,” she says with a sigh. “With your dark lashes and thick hair and all your . . . prettiness.”

“She thinks you’re hot,” Kat says, and shrugs when Cami scowls at her. “What? You just told him he’s pretty. I’m translating.”

“Thank you,” I say, chuckling. “I’ll take you home, Kat.”

“I have my car.”

“And you’re way too drunk to drive. You don’t live far.”

“I’ll call an Uber,” she says, waving me off and pulling the app up on her phone. “No need for you to leave and come all the way back.”

“This was fun,” Cami says. “But we forgot to eat.”

“No wonder we got so drunk,” Kat says. “I knew we were forgetting something. According to this, my driver will be here in three minutes. I’ll go out and wait.”

“Thank you,” Cami says, and hugs Kat around the neck. “You’re pretty too.”

Kat snorts again. “You are drunk. You’re welcome. See you when I see you.”

“I’ll go wait with you,” I say as we walk to the front door. “It’s dark.”

Cami crashes on the couch as Kat and I walk outside and down to the sidewalk.

“I think you’re good for her,” Kat says out of the blue. “She’s happy. And it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her be really happy.”

“I’m glad.” This is an awkward conversation.

“Just don’t hurt her.” She points her finger into my chest. “Seriously, don’t. Because then she’ll be sad, and she’s had her share of sad, with her parents dying and her divorce and stuff.”

“I don’t want her to be sad either,” I reply. “And thank you for being such a good friend to her.”

“Well, duh. She’s awesome. Oh, there’s my car.” A black car pulls up to the curb and the driver rolls down the window, verifying that Kat is his passenger. She climbs in the backseat and waves at me, blows a kiss, and they drive away.

I take a deep breath, enjoying the crisp night air, then walk back inside and smile softly at my girl passed out cold on the couch. She’s curled in a ball, her head resting against the back cushion, and Scoot is curled up in her lap, purring away.

I take the blanket off the back of a chair and drape it over her, leaving Scoot’s head poking out, and bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Sleep well.”

And now it’s time to get started on the pantry.

SOMEONE’S KISSING ME. My face, my neck, my ear. I crack an eye open and find Cami smiling at me, lying on top of me. After I finished the pantry, at around two in the morning, I simply picked Cami up and joined her on the couch, and we slept here all night.

Scoot is lying on my feet.

“Good morning,” Cami says softly. “I don’t remember falling asleep here.”

“You were in a wine coma,” I inform her dryly. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s Saturday. Do you have to work?”

“Nope, I’m off today. I’d like to spend it with you, if that’s okay.”

She smiles happily. “It’s okay.”

I drag my knuckles down her cheek and kiss her forehead. She feels so good lying on top of me. The only way this would be better would be if I was inside her.

But we’ll get there.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” I offer softly.

“I can make it.” She’s playing with my hair and watching her own fingers as they comb through the strands, then her eyes widen. “Oh no! I have to put my kitchen back together!”

I kiss her, then sit up, taking her with me, and when we’re both on our feet, I guide her back to the kitchen, where she stops cold, eyes wide, surveying the clean room.

“Was I robbed?”

“No.” I laugh and kiss her head, then walk over and open the new pantry door.

“Oh my God.” She walks over and studies the door, then peeks inside. “Oh, it’s so pretty.”

“You did a great job on the paint,” I say, loving how her cheeks have gone pink and her eyes shine as she walks into the pantry and checks it out. “I wasn’t completely sure where you wanted everything, so you can obviously change it, but it’s put away for now at least.”