“And the salt for that matter. They’re both gone.”
I sigh and open the cabinet above the stove and pull out the salt and pepper shakers. “Maddie says they’re a married couple and deserve the privacy of their own house. And you’re not listening to me.”
Will smirks, gently taking the spices from my hands. “I have a very strong immune system. Amelia gave me the day off. And you’ll look very cute with antennae.”
“Willington…”
“Annie.” His happy-go-lucky demeanor melts into something serious. Unguarded. He puts his hands on the sides of my arms and then slides them down to my fingers. “Please. Just let me be here. I don’t know why, but I can’t be anywhere else. I tried but my feet keep bringing me back here to your door.” He pauses, looks to the soup and then to me. “This…isn’t something I would normally do, but I just need to take care of you. Please let me.”
Well. With a response like that, how can I say no? What’s another little fracture to my heart? I’ll go back to building boundaries tomorrow by going on my date with my potential perfect soulmate, and everything will be fine. “The bowls are in the cupboard to the right. And you better put that paring knife back in the same place you found it, or Maddie will have your neck when she gets home.”
He releases a breath, lets go of my hands, and smiles. “Got it. Completely rearrange the kitchen drawers before Maddie gets back. Now go sit down before you decide to camp out on the floor again.”
I do as I’m told, taking a big fuzzy blanket from an oversize basket beside the couch and wrapping it around my shoulders. I sit down, laying my legs out across the cushions, resting my face against the back so I can peer at Will over the top. His shoulders work as he ladles out the soup, and I wonder if I can blame it on my sickness if I ask him to remove his shirt while cooking.
I lose the nerve, and Will brings a steaming bowl over to me on the couch. He sets it on the coffee table and then takes the seat at my feet, lifting them up and pulling them into his lap. I blink, stunned at his easygoing physical touch. Tactile. He’s just tactile.
“Will?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you this affectionate with everyone?” I ask, nodding to where his hands are now resting over my shins.
“Pretty much,” he says, hesitating before bringing his blue-gray eyes up to meet mine.
I’m instantly both disappointed and jealous. There’s no reason I should have hoped he was only like this with me—and yet here I am. A little sad. I blame the cold and the fact that I’m only like this with him.
Will frowns. “That’s not what you wanted to hear?”
I nuzzle the side of my face against the overstuffed pillow we keep on the couch. “I don’t know what I want to hear. I’m sick. It’s messing with my head. And you’re nurturing me, which is catnip for softies like me.”
The right side of his mouth rises in a grin. “You’re not normally affectionate, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m not affectionate. I’ve just never really had anyone to be affectionate with. I think I must accidentally put out an invisible force field that tells people I don’t want to be touched. And it feels too awkward to all of a sudden start after all this time.”
Will looks down at my bare feet and then gently begins rubbing over my arches and up my calf. It feels so good I want to cry. All of the muscles in my body have been cramping from dehydration today. And Will’s hot hands are exactly the thing they need to relax. Unfortunately, it’s also working in the opposite way—winding my body up into a tight coil.
“You can be affectionate with me. I won’t read into it,” he says casually, like he didn’t just hand me keys to a golden palace. Because the truth is, I love physical touch. Crave it more than I want to admit. But my shyness and social anxiety often keep me from reaching out for it first. I wait for other people to initiate, and sometimes that leaves me waiting forever.
I force my tone to sound calm and not at all excited by this all-access pass to Snuggle Town. “Right. Because you’re my practice person. I can practice initiating snuggles.”
“Exactly.” He looks up at me.
“Like Fred and Audrey before the ending.”
He frowns. “Now you lost me.”
I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
We sit in tense silence for several minutes before Will breaks it by leaning over and gently moving the bowl of soup from the table to my lap. “It’s cooled off by now. You need to eat a few bites if you can. The doctor said hot broth is good for your throat.”