2.34 Figs and Cinnamon (2)

“Bull snot. Give me your credit card. I’ll do a shopping spree for you too.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly, pushing against me until I gave in and sat in a chair not far from Boyd’s bed.

The smell was making my mouth water, but at the same time, making me want to cry. I resisted looking at his face, because I knew if I did, it would bring the waterworks.

“Stay. I’ll be back soon,” Winnie whispered loudly.

I nodded, trying not to breathe. Winnie gave me a curious look, then said, “If you need to take a number two, the bathroom is right there.”

My face flamed. Did I look constipated?

“Go take your shower,” I growled in a low voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved me off. “Light a candle when you’re done.”

Little punk. He’s feisty and abrasive, just like a cat.

Ada was lifting her head, trying to see Boyd through my eyes, but I was still fighting the urge to steal a glance at his sleeping face. The fight was getting harder and harder the more his scent wafted towards me. His