“What size are you?”
“Eight.”
“Hmm.” He puts his hands on his hips and thinks. “Well, you can wear some of mine.”
“I’ll fall over and break my neck, Jameson.”
“Hmm, okay.” He disappears into the walk-in closet and comes out in black Nike shorts and a blue Nike T-shirt.
I smirk when I see him.
“What?”
“Are you sponsored by Nike today or something?”
He looks down at himself and smiles. “No, it just happens to be comfortable.”
“Like this bed.” I smile sleepily as I snuggle back under the covers.
He sits down to put his shoes on, and I watch him for a moment. “So how does this work?” I ask.
“How does what work?”
“Well . . .” I pause as I try to articulate what I want to say without sounding needy. “I’ve never done this casual thing before.” I shrug shyly. “How do we navigate this? When do we see each other?”
“Well . . .” He bends to tie his shoe. “We just play it by ear, I guess.”
I frown. But what if he didn’t call? I’d be waiting all week. Oh, I don’t like the sound of that. “I think I would prefer set days.”
He frowns. “How many days?”
I shrug. Shit, did that sound clingy? I’ll play it down. “One day a week.”
“I want to see you more than once a week,” he scoffs.
“You do?”
He smiles, knowing exactly what I’m doing. He stands and then leans down and kisses me. “Yes, three times a week.”
I try to hide my smile. “What days?”
“Do we have to have set days?”
“I kind of do.”
“Why?”
I shrug as I twist the blanket between my fingers, embarrassed by my neediness.
He puts his finger under my chin and brings my face to his. “Why, Emily?”
“Because I hate waiting around, and then we know not to plan anything else on our days.”
“Okay.” He puts his hands on his hips. “When do you want to see me?”
“Maybe twice through the week and once on weekends.” I hesitate as I watch for his cues. “But only a few hours each time, of course.”
“No.”