“You smell like you,” I murmured into his shirt. He turned and took me from the kitchen. “Who else would I smell like?” he mused as he carried me down the hallway. “Your girlfriend,” I mumbled. “You’ve got one, right? Why wouldn’t you have one?” “I’m not really the dating type,” he said cryptically. “And I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a married man.” A smile spread across my lips at his matter-of-fact tone. He glanced down, and one side of his lips lifted in a smirk. “You like that?” “Yes,” I nodded. “Yeah. I like that.”
