“Minty fresh.” I put mine in too. The only thing I needed now was to ignore my bladder. I knew Reese. He would answer my questions.

“I never liked you because you were funny. I started liking you because you were nuts, but you really weren’t, if that makes sense.”

I grinned. “It doesn’t, which makes me feel like it does.”

He smiled again. “I think Laffy Taffy jokes are the best, so every now and then maybe? Let’s not overdo it. No to the wardrobe, since I need it, and we can’t do a switch. No. I don’t think they boned. I think Grant thought about it, wished he could, but was too drunk to get it up.”

“Ew.”

He ignored that. “Yes, we’re still friends.” His finger moved up, tracing the side of my face, pushing some hair from my mouth. “I think we can save time and acknowledge we’re more than friends.” He caught my look. “More than friends who bone even.”

“Oh.”

“And no, dementia does not run in my family. My grandfather was an alcoholic, so’s Roman, and I think my dad pretends to be so he doesn’t have to deal with life. But I don’t drink, so you don’t have to worry about that—you know, if we remain more than friends who bone.”

It was like my heart was made of flower petals. Each one opened, beginning to collect, build, blossom. His last words were the last petal falling into place, completing the heart.

Cheesy, but the perfect description. It fell into place, all of it.

“I think I like you,” I whispered.

Reese moved closer, his forehead resting against mine. “You have a cardboard cutout of me. I think you’ve liked me for a long time.”

I barked out a laugh. “I was messing with you. I don’t have a cardboard cutout.”

“If we keep with our more-than-friends-who-bone theme, I’ll get you one for Valentine’s Day.” He lifted me up and rolled to his back, holding me over him, his hands under my arms.

“Deal.” I nodded. “I feel like I’m your new puppy.”

“Christ.” He draped me over his chest, and nuzzled against the top of my head. “I have a flight to catch.”

“You do.” My hand traced his chest, because I could, because I was already missing him. Catching on his boxer’s waistband, I slid my finger underneath, moving across his stomach and then smoothing my hand back up to his bicep.

“We have a game tomorrow.” His hips nudged mine, jostling me a little. “Would you come?”

An argument could’ve been made that I already had, but I knew we weren’t joking anymore. Lifting my head, I peered at him. “What are you asking?”