He didn't actually remember falling asleep. He remembered lying on his back with Annie draped over his chest like a broken rag doll. He was no better, quite literally unable to move beyond the lackadaisical running of his fingers through her hair, hair that was so soft, so luxurious he couldn't seem to make himself stop touching it. Every time she moved it, it sent a whiff of vanilla and lavender into the air and Jeff found himself over and over again wanting to bury his face in those raven locks and stay there forever.
They'd been talking about something, he couldn't really remember what, it was all kind of an exhaustion-induced blur, but he knew it wasn't anything important.
No, the important thing he'd said was being well and truly ignored. He appreciated that. Not that he didn't mean it, he was fairly certain he did, in fact. He'd pretty much came to the conclusion before he ever came here and the last few hours had in no way diminished the sentiment. If anything, he felt more strongly about her now than he had when he arrived to find her so broken and ruined. He just hadn't wanted to say it the first time, EVER, like that. His timing sucked.
Now as he blinked himself awake and surveyed his surroundings, it was surprise that first came to him. Apparently, the radiator had decided it wasn't as dead as they thought. The room was warm, almost toasty, in fact. The blankets, which they'd been huddled under before falling asleep were in a heap around the foot of the bed.
And Annie was, well, Annie was shocking him, once again. But what really startled him, what really left him not knowing how to react, was himself. Annie had slid from his chest sometime during the night and ended up on her side, facing away from him. She wasn't clinging to him. She wasn't cuddled up against him so tightly he couldn't breath. Actually she wasn't touching him at all. But what was also apparent was that he'd followed her because now here he was laying on his own side with his arm wrapped around her waist and his face buried in all that beautiful hair.
What the hell was he doing? He didn't spoon! Jeff Winger WAS NOT a spooner. Yet, here was the proof. Here was the irrefutable evidence that said he did, indeed, spoon.
Now in the last handful of hours, he'd not only spooned, but cuddled, talked, and lest he forget the very loud declaration of love that he still didn't know what to do about.
What the hell had Annie Edison done to him?
It had to be some kind of magic. She'd worked some sort of spell. That had to be it. It was the only explanation that made any sense. And the fact that that explanation actually made sense to him made all of this even more ridiculous.
And the worst part was, the absolute worst thing was that even now, fully awake and completely in control of himself, he couldn't make himself get the hell out of that bed. He couldn't even let her go enough to get on his own side of it before she woke up and found him draped over her like some kind of lovesick, desperate, Emo teenager.
Then she shifted and it was too late to even to try to move anymore. He'd been caught. He didn't even know how to talk himself out this. In a few moments, she'd wake up enough to realized where she was and where he was and she would know.
She would understand exactly how much power she had.
This was terrifying and embarrassing. He never let anyone have this much control over him. Situations like this were exactly why he didn't do sleepovers. Well, really, that wasn't true. He'd never been in a situation like this. The reserve of this, the girl being all clinging and needy in the morning, that was why he didn't do sleepovers. He had no idea what to think about this. This was completely new and it was a circumstance he'd never imagined himself in so he had no plan for how to deal with it.
She moved again, this time gently easing herself away from him. He almost instinctively tightened his hold. He didn't want to let her go. He wasn't ready for her to be that far away from him and again, it was ridiculous! He managed to get enough of a grip on himself to let her disentangle from him. He closed his eyes and played possum as she got out of the bed and quietly padded out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He must have drifted back to sleep because the next thing he was aware of was the delicious smell of fresh coffee mixed with the unmistakeable aroma of bacon wafting in from the kitchen.
She was making breakfast and now he had a decision to make. Did he just lay there and ignore all the wonderful scents beckoning him out of bed, or did he give in, man up and just go find her?
His stomach gave a hardy growl and his mouth watered as they offered their votes. It was his pride and ego that he was having the problem with, both felt as if he'd betrayed them and they were right, he had. He let her get to him, something he made a point of never doing. He 'd worked too hard at not caring to go and blow it all now.
And he realized, with a touch of Karmic irony, that what really bothered him was when he said 'I love you' she didn't say it back. She still hadn't. How many women had he done that to? How many times had someone told him they loved him and he hadn't returned the statement? He couldn't even remember. Now here he was, confused, embarrassed and completely unsure of himself. He'd never, ever been insecure in his life. The one thing he could always count on was the fact that he had complete confidence in himself.
But lying there, hiding from her certainly wasn't adding to his sense of self respect, so he got up, slid on his pants which were once again in a discarded heap on the floor and took off to find her and breakfast.
He absolutely hated the way his knees suddenly felt weak when he first saw her. It was so freaking insane the way his heart fluttered when she turned and offered him a bright, cheerful smile in greeting.
"I was just coming to get you. I made breakfast," she chirped happily and just the sound of her voice, so gleeful and perky made him feel better, brighter, more awake and peppy than the smell of the coffee brewing in the corner. He hated morning people, abhorred them. Now, here he was absolutely taken in by her.
He took her in his arms as soon as he was close enough because all he could think about was feeling that infectious smile against his own lips and he got the added bonus of sliding his fingers over the utterly soft satin of her pink robe when he wrapped his arms around her hips.
"Good morning." He told her, not even bothering to hide his own smile despite the fact that he was sure it was anything but cool.
"The heater's working," she said needlessly.
"I noticed that," he answered, while letting her go reluctantly and going to his place at the table which was already set with two plates of steaming food that looked scrumptious and a cup of coffee that was too tempting to resist. "How does the weather look?"
"It's still snowing. I figured it would have quit by now, but it hasn't," she replied taking her own place and diving into her plate with gusto.
One of the things he really did love about Annie was the way she ate. Her table manners were impeccable, that was true, but she ate like she meant it. She had never been one of those women that backed away from food because she was afraid someone would see her consuming it. She was not an 'I'll just have a salad' girl. She enjoyed food and had no problems expressing that joy. It was honest and real and so very, very Annie he had to smile as he watched her from across the table.
She sat her fork down and took up her coffee when she noticed him looking and offered a coy smile around her cup. "What? Why are you staring at me like that? You keep staring at me. It makes me nervous."
"I'm sorry," he said, purposefully looking away. "I don't mean to stare." He was only successful at averting his eyes for a moment before she drew him right back in. "You are just so incredibly beautiful."
Her smile widened as she sat her cup aside and rolled her eyes. She was nervously playing with a strand of her hair, twining it tightly around her finger.
"So what are we doing today?" he asked, changing the subject because he saw how uncomfortable it was making her.
"You're staying?"
He chuckled. "I'm not sure I could leave even if I wanted to, but I really don't want to." Then he added because he couldn't help himself, "Unless you want me to go?"
"Of course I don't want you to go. You are welcome to stay as long as you want," she assured him.
It seemed like she didn't notice the apprehension in his voice when he made the statement and he was glad for that. The less she knew about how he felt about all this the better. He was having enough trouble dealing with his emotions without adding hers, whatever they might be, to the mix.
She looked up at him, all of a sudden timid and shy.
"What?" he asked, curious at the sudden change in her expression.
"I was just wondering..." she began, then cleared her throat and sat up straighter.
Jeff tensed instantly. Was this it? Had she decided it was time to have the talk that seemed to be hanging over their heads just wanting for one of them to initiate it?
"What were you wondering, Annie? Come on, spit it out," he said, wanting to just get the whole thing over with now.
"Have you ever made a snowman?"
His shock turned into a loud hardly laugh as the tension left his body in a gush. "Of course I have when I was a kid. Haven't you?"
She shook her head sadly. "No, I never had anyone to help me and I would have felt like an idiot out there alone, freezing my- well you know, playing in the snow."
"Well, then, I guess we know what we're going to do today," he announced.
"Really?" She looked up happily.
"No one should go through life, especially in Colorado, without freezing their butt off, playing in the snow."
Getting outside was an ordeal. He'd actually had to climb through one of the windows sitting to either side of the front door of the building. A snowbank had made the actual door unusable. Annie had tried to talk him out of it, told him it was fine, they could play in the snow some other time. But the snowbank was more than he could deal with. He suddenly felt trapped, not by her, but by the building.
By the time he'd shimmied himself through the window, one of her neighbors, Rob, he thought he heard her call him, had come out to find out what was happening. When he saw the situation, he went to his apartment and retrieved a shovel (what he was doing with a huge shovel in his apartment, Jeff hadn't bothered to ask). Then he joined him and the two men worked for nearly an hour clearing the snow enough to open the front door.
So he was exhausted when the first snowball hit him in the side of the face. It was the only excuse he could come up with for the ease with which she'd managed to nail him. He had no defense for the second attack that caught him in the back of the head.
Rob had been joined by his boyfriend, Michael and the two of them watched uproariously as Annie, hidden behind one of the cars parked by the street, lobbed ball after ball at him all while giggling furiously and having the time of her life.
He was unceremoniously getting his ass kicked by a girl. And not just any girl, Annie, the girliest of girls. He had to figure out a way to redeem himself. This could not be allowed to happen.
He gathered himself and took off towards the side of the building, getting pelted the whole way, and not breathing until he was hidden by the tall, brick structure. Once there, he stood and panted for a handful of seconds and cursed the fact that it was obvious he had a few years on her. That youthful, exuberance was making itself apparent when he caught a flash of her quilted pink coat dashing behind a tree not far away. How she thought she would stay hidden in the bright fuchsia thing was beyond him. Even if the coat hadn't been an issue her joyous laughter, although she was obviously trying her best to muffle it, sounded out in the quiet that always seemed to accompany snowfall. It was like the entire world hushed when it snowed to listen the falling flakes.
Knowing he had no time to lose, he gathered a handful of snow in his palm and made short work of forming it into a tight ball, then he repeated the process several more times, leaving a pile of ammunition at his boots.
Then he waited for her to make her move. He didn't have to wait for long. As soon as he caught a glimpse of pink darting from behind her tree, he struck, lobbing ball after ball in her direction, listening to her howls of uproarious laughter as he found his target.
But instead of retreating, she ignored the onslaught and came at him full throttle until she was little more than a few foot paces away.
"Okay," she yelled around her panting breath. "I surrender. You win."
"You're holding a snowball in your hand. I'm not coming out until you lay down arms," he shouted.
He watched as the ball of white fluffy powder fell from her hand and landed at her boot soundlessly. "Happy now?"
"Let me see your other hand," he said, peering at her from around the side of the building.
She held up her empty, gloved hand and spread her fingers wide, showing him that she was hiding nothing.
Satisfied, he stepped out from around the building and in a flash of motion, she scooped to the ground, grabbed a handful of snow and threw it him so quickly he had no time to react.
He advanced on her as he brushed the snow from his shoulder, his face set in a dangerous, predatory glare.
"I'm sorry," she was saying as she back stepped towards her tree once again. "I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"It was an accident," she claimed lamely.
"An accident?"
She was nearly even with the tree again, a quick dart to the side would have her safely hidden. He didn't plan on letting that happen.
"I have a condition." She told him.
"What kind of condition?" he asked, still advancing towards her at a slow, albeit, steady pace.
She scooped down again, grabbed another ball of snow and tossed it before skidding sideways and making for the cover of the tree. "It's called hating to lose!" she squealed out gleefully as she fled.
He was close enough now that she had no chance. He covered the distance between them in one long stride and reached out, hooking his arm around her waist to pull her in. Her momentum was more than he anticipated and it drove him backwards as her small form slammed into his chest.
They both went tumbling in a tangle of arms and legs that were hindered by the heaviness of their winter wear.
He hit the ground first. She quickly followed, landing square in the middle of his chest and causing all the air to leave his lungs with a whoosh. Her face was startled when his eyes found hers, but the minute she saw his smile, it shifted as laughter bubbled from her lips. His joined hers and soon the afternoon quiet was taken over by the sound.
They spent the next three hours much the same way. He tried to make sure there was no snow experience that she missed, the snowball fight, snow angels, a snowman. Anything he could think of that she might have missed out on while growing up. He'd even tried, and ultimately failed, to find a sled. That was an experience that would have to be table for next time.
By the time the darkness began to descend, they were frozen, exhausted and starving since they hadn't paused for food since leaving the breakfast table. Annie offered to cook again and he readily agree to let her handle that while he found a nice, hot bath to thaw in.
The steam was still rising from the water when she knocked softly on the door.
The light from the hall flooded the candlelit room when she stepped inside after he told her to come in.
She closed the door behind her, casting the tiny space back into the softness of the candle's glow and smiled at him as she handed him a mug of something with steam rolling off of it.
"Hot Chocolate," she explained with a timid shrug when he accepted the mug and sniff at it before taking a sip.
He said a quick thanks around a much hearty drink before setting the mug on the floor beside the tub and looking up at her.
She was once again wearing the pink satin robe he'd enjoyed earlier that morning and she'd pulled her hair back from her face in a ponytail at the nap of her neck.
"How's dinner coming?"
"I made lasagna," she announced. Then she paused and quickly amended, "Okay, I opened the box with the frozen lasagna and put it in the oven. It'll be ready in an hour."
He nodded and gave her a lingering look from her painted red toenails to the top of her head, perusing her unhurriedly. "So an hour, huh?" he said, letting the suggestion of his look pour over into his voice.
"That's what the box says," she shrugged again, seemingly oblivious to the implications of his tone and his gaze.
He shifted, causing the water to stirred into waves around him. "What will we do for the next hour while we wait?"
She looked away from him hiding her face behind a coy mask of innocence. "We could play scrabble," she suggested and he knew the minute the words left her mouth that she was teasing, toying with him.
Somehow she'd come closer to the tub without him noticing and he suddenly realized that she was close enough he could just reach out and grab her. But he stopped himself before he made the move, mindful of the robe he'd grown quite fond of already.
"I think if it was me, I would do something about that robe before it gets ruined," he warned her.
She snatched at her chest, clutching the silky material to her with mock horror on her face. "My robe. This is my favorite robe. What is going to happen to ruin it?"
He sat up, preparing to make his move. "In a few seconds, I intend to have you in here with me, with or without the robe?" He told her, leveling her with a lustful stare.
"Is that right?" she asked, still all coy and innocent-seeming. "So," She reached to her waist, snagged the end of the belt holding the robe closed and began to tug it languorously until it finally pulled loose. "I should maybe do something like this about it?" she asked as she shrugged it from her shoulders and let it fall to pool at her feet.
He watched the garment fall away with rapt attention, completely hypnotized by the show she was offering him.
It was in that moment that he knew that she was fully aware of what she did to him and she was planning to use that knowledge every chance she got. It was classic Annie. She played the innocent so well, until that moment when coy suddenly became unabashed and innocent Annie turned into the seductress he'd discovered the night before. She turned it off and on like she was flipping a switch, using it to her full advantage.
He loved it. Loved that she could play him like that, turn him to mush so causally, so effortlessly. He shouldn't. It was something he'd always feared, but there it was and he was helpless to fight it.
He moved again, unable to take his eyes from her as she climbed into the tub with him. He didn't speak until her slightly chilled body was settled into his much warmer lap.
"You might as well enjoy that while it lasts." He told her with his lips skirting her collarbone.
"What?"
"That little demur, blushing thing you've got going on. It's only going to work for so long before it wears off," he explained.
Her hand was buried in his hair and she brought her lips to his for a moment before pulling away. "Oh, I think I can still get plenty of use out it." She was smiling now, not a bit ashamed of being called out for her ploy. She hadn't been trying to manipulate him, not underhandedly, at least. She'd known all along that he'd be able to see through her game.
"What are you going to do when it doesn't work anymore?" He wanted to know.
"I'll come up with something," she answered as she ran her hand down his chest.
His eyes fell to her hand and he watched as if moved under the line of the water. She didn't stop until her fingers were circling his already eager hardness. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of her touch before bringing his gaze back to hers. "You know, you don't have to try so hard for me. When it comes to you, I'm easy."
"I know," she said, totally candid. "But the game is half the fun."