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Crazy in Love

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At some point . . . I’m guessing three hours into our bingeing, the food arrives. Harrison springs from the bed to answer the door while I starfish on the mattress. It feels much too big and lonely without him in it.

A buzz on the nightstand has me rolling to my stomach and reaching for my phone, but then I pause when I realize it’s his phone. It would be rude and violate his privacy to read his text messages, but the fool doesn’t have a password on it. A fingerprint isn’t even required to unlock it, so what’s a person to do?

I lift on my elbows and spy the name—Natalie Christiansen—on the screen. Why is my best friend texting the guy I’m having intimate relations with?

No time like the present to find out and satisfy my curiosity.

Taking the phone in hand, I swipe to open the message and read: Is everything okay? We didn’t hear from you, and I’m worried.

Why would she be worried?

Maybe because he hasn’t come back from his mission to save me. I type: Having a great time. Tatum is amazing.

I put a smiley face and then erase it, thinking Harrison wouldn’t use that. He probably uses frogs and the death face in his texts.

A return text from her arrives: Really?

Really, Natalie? My fingers fly across the screen: Really. She’s incredible. Great in bed, funny, an excellent cook. I couldn’t dream of meeting a woman so complex and intelligent. I’m so grateful to have her in my life.

My phone buzzes this time, but it’s a call. I snatch it and roll onto my back. “Hello?” I answer as innocently as I can.

“Nice try, but what’d you do with the body?”

“Wow, no faith.”

“Plenty of faith. I absolutely believe you’d get away with murder.”

“I don’t know if I should be proud or insulted.”

She replies, “Proud.” Her laughter echoes, and then she starts to tell Nick what we said.

“Helloooooo, I’m still here, Nat.”

Harrison saunters in, holding two plates on top of a pizza box. A welcome distraction. Setting it down at the end of the mattress, he says, “Dinner is served.” He goes into the bathroom and returns with a towel that he neatly places under the box.

He’s a keeper.

He took care of me, and now he’s taking care of my duvet. God, that’s something Nick would do for Nat. He just keeps surprising me.

“Who are you talking to?” he asks.

“Natalie.”

In my ear, Natalie says, “Ask him to report in.”

“She said to report in.” I laugh because this is so ridiculous.

“Tell her you’re all good and taken care of.” He winks, and I melt a little on the inside.

“He’s taken good care of me, so no need to worry,” I speak into the phone. “Our food’s here, so I’m going to let you go. Oh and no need to worry. Harrison is safe with me here.

“Tatum,” she replies, giggling. “Oh my God. Have the best time tonight.”

We have already. “Thanks. We will. Now go have fun with your hubs, and we’ll talk tomorrow at the office.”

“Every detail, Tate. I mean it.”

“Block off the morning. We have so much to talk about. Good night.”

“Night.”

He hands me a plate with two slices of pepperoni on it and then sits back in bed again. I ask, “She made you promise her details?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s living vicariously these days. The baby adds to her fear of missing out.”

His eyes are directed at the TV screen. He hasn’t started the show, but he’s checked the volume and coloring. “Eh, we should all be so lucky to have what they do and a baby on the way to boot.”

“There will be no booting of the baby on my watch.”

Turning to me, he chews his bite, but I can see questions populating in his eyes. Just as I take a big bite, he asks, “So you’re warming to the idea of being a godparent?”

“I am. I don’t want to think about the tragedy that would place this child in our home, but I’m kind of excited to play such an important role in their life. How do you feel?”

“I feel the same.” His fingertips run along the veins of my forearm. “I like knowing I’m in it with you as well.”

“Yeah, I agree. It’s not so overwhelming when you split the duties.”

When I lean over to give him a kiss, my hip pushes the play button, and the show comes back on. We’ve talked enough about it to know where we stand. I feel good, even better being in the trenches with him. Their child will never lack love or support. I’ll be there for every event and celebration in their life.

We binge, both food and the show, and then fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Pain permeates my muscles, a soreness developed from a great workout or sex with Harrison. It’s the latter, and I’ll take it over and over again. But it sends me to the bathroom, slinking over to the medicine cabinet to search for pain relievers.



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