She regards me for a few long seconds, and then finally it spills out. “What if I drool on you? What if I stink when I sleep? What if you wake up and look at me in the morning and realize it’s all a mistake?”

“We have slept next to each other before and you didn’t turn into an ogre overnight. Not that I remember.”

“But still, what if there’s . . .” Her hand flails for a second in frustration. “Flatulence.”

I bark out a laugh, and then can’t stop laughing. “Are you saying you might fart on me?”

Her face is now bright red. “See? I am no good at this.”

“Actually, I think you’re very, very good at this.” I move away from the bed and take a step toward her, getting close enough so I can take both her hands and link her fingers with mine.

“Come to bed. With me. I promise I won’t run out of here gagging if you fart all over me in your sleep.” The words come out mixed with laughter.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny. Unless you really don’t want to. Then I wouldn’t make you. If you would rather stay away from me, I won’t cry too much.”

She smiles, the movement small and shy. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” She slides in the bed first, scooting toward the wall, on her side, facing me. I leave the lights on—maybe it will make her more comfortable if she can see—and slide in next to her and lie on my back, trying not to crowd her, but I take one hand and link our fingers, shutting my eyes.

Her hand clutches against mine, but tension vibrates off her.

I crack an eye open and find her staring at me, eyes wide in the dim light.

The chuckles can’t be held back.

“Why are you laughing?” Her voice is indignant, but she’s smiling.

“You look terrified. You can sleep. Do you want me to turn off the lights?”

“No. Maybe I like watching you sleep.”

“That’s worse than the farting, creeper.”

“Stop it.” She smacks me gently on the arm.

I lean over and kiss her on the lips, slowly, making sure she sees me coming and that she’s okay with it. It’s a small kiss, a light tap of lips and then I move back to lie on my side, facing her. The faint flush of her skin makes her radiant under the soft illumination.

After a few long seconds, she leans over and her mouth covers mine.

And so it goes. We face each other under the fairy lights and kiss for a while. Then we stop to gather ourselves and talk. And laugh. And the conversation turns into really random things. Mostly because I’m trying to calm the happy guy in my pants by thinking about bizarre topics unrelated to Reese’s soft skin or the feel of her hands when she runs them under my shirt and up my back, casting chills over my body.