Connor
All I wanted was a long shower.
Hot water. Soap that smelled like our house now. Ten minutes where no one asked me about turf reinforcement or scent profiles.
After that, pizza. Pepperoni and mushrooms. The kind that comes in a cardboard box and leaves grease on the lid. Then a nap. A proper nap. With Edward curled into my side, his arm heavy over my chest, both of us finally still in the same house.
That was the plan.
I was halfway up the main staircase, shoes in one hand, already thinking about the shower head in the master bathroom, when I felt a hand wrap around my wrist and yank me backward.
"Where are you going?" Edward asked, and he sounded way too cheerful for someone who had just spent the day meeting with Mr. Davies about helicopter permits.
"To shower," I said. "And then to order food. And then to sleep. With you."
