“Your sheets,” she said when I didn’t answer, tugging them up farther and wrapping herself up like a burrito. “God, they smell so good. And your sweaters, too.” “You’ve been wearing my sweaters?” She shot a hand out from under the covers with her index finger pointed up. “Technically, you gave me one to wear first, so it’s in the rules that it’s okay to wear them whenever I want to now.”
