Liquid Feels - Book 3 - DP Series - Complete

22. She Must Love Hugs

My mom sets up a pallet for Seth in the office just off of the living room. Then, after hugs and kisses, she and my dad head for bed. Hope stays up chatting with us for another two hours and then gets distracted by her phone. Apparently, our 'college' talk was getting boring.

Glancing at Seth, I ask him if he's tired.

"Not really," he admits. "I drank about five cups of coffee today, so I'm kinda wired."

I, on the other hand, had not had coffee and was bone-tired. Standing, I shake myself awake by running in place and doing a few jumping jacks.

"Trying to get my blood pumping," I explain to Seth's curious look. "Wanna go outside? The cold always wakes me up a little."

"If you're tired, just go to bed."

I'm already shaking my head. "Nope. You're leaving tomorrow, so we have the rest of tonight to make memories."

"Believe me," Seth smirks. "This Thanksgiving is one I'll never forget."

I smile, motioning Seth to follow me. Once we're both bundled, I shove a thick blanket under my arm and lead Seth out to the backyard.

"Figured we could try the star-gazing thing again," I tell him. "I think we're a little more prepared for the cold this time, and," I spread my arms out and glance toward the sky, "it's not that cold tonight, or windy."

Seth smiles and then helps me lay the blanket out flat before the two of us lay down on it. It's almost midnight now and most of the neighborhood has turned in for the night. The quiet is welcome after a wild few days with family. It seems that neither of us feels the need to fill the air with our words, so we just lay there watching the sky.

My hand is resting right beside Seth's and it's bringing back memories of his fingers sliding between mine. The feel of his warmth and strength—the safety he offered in just a touch. My fingers twitch to feel that again.

Suddenly I'm all too aware of his nearness. My chest physically aches with the build-up of unexpressed emotions. It seems my fate is decided: either the ache kills me, or the rejection does. So, at this point, I'm trying to figure out if I really have anything to lose.

Carefully, I slide my hand overtop his and wait for his reaction. He doesn't flinch away or even glance at me in surprise. But when his head drops to the side, eyes boring into the side of my face, I finally turn toward him. There's no question in his eyes. No judgment. I find the jittering in my nerves starts to dwindle, a hum of calm settling beneath my skin.

"I'm glad you could come," I tell him, letting one side of my lips twitch up into a soft smile.

"Me too," he responds, his voice gravelly as he tries to stay quiet.

He doesn't shift away from me or do anything to make the situation awkward. But he also doesn't seem all that affected by my forwardness at all. I'm beginning to wonder if physical touch is his love language. I've heard people talk about that kind of thing often, but never paid much attention. The idea that Seth might find value in someone's touch—even if it's just a pat on the back from a buddy—has my thoughts nosediving into dark, dangerous areas of my brain.

Dropping my hand away, I sit up. The sudden movement definitely snags Seth's attention because he rolls up into a seated position beside me.

"You okay?"

I nod, unable to speak around the emotions in my throat. I need to get away from this situation. Being around him is becoming too risky. But I can't bring myself to move. And then Seth is shifting toward me and wrapping his hand around my wrist. He pulls it just firmly enough to get my attention.