Kookie stands for a moment with his heart in his eyes as he gazes down at the bent head of the girl who he finally realizes he loves. But she misses that vulnerable look as she studies the toes of her soaked, white flats. Then he suddenly leaves the kitchen without a word. I grab a towel for Emmie to dry herself off before she heads to Janna’s room to change.
A few moments later, Kookie wanders out into the living room wearing a pair of sweatpants. Only. My gaze shifts from his bare feet up his black sweats to his naked torso. I clear my throat. This is not going to help matters.
“Kookie, put a shirt on.” I give him my sternest look as I think of all the ARMYs that would be in a puddle at his feet right now if they could see him.
That’s when I notice the green hoodie in his hand. He spins around and heads for his bedroom. Emmie chooses that precise moment to round the corner. She collides with his naked chest, her nose coming to land over his heart. I think all three of us stopped breathing.
Emmie is dressed in a red T-shirt and black knit leggings. Her damp hair is hanging down her back, and she’s still shivering. Kookie notices and wraps his arms around her. Shocked, she lifts her face towards his.
Then, smiling down at her poignantly, Kookie speaks, “Here, Emmie, wear my hoodie.” He pulls away to hand her his hallowed hoodie, the olive green one she stole several weeks ago.
Emmie turns wide eyes to look up at Kookie in shock.
“But, Kookie! That’s your favorite shirt!”
He shrugs as he smiles sweetly at her. “You can have it.”
Tears fill her eyes.
I am giddy as I realize I will, after all, get to see Emmie clad in Kookie’s ridiculously oversized shirt. She’s going to look so cute! I imagine the bottom of that shirt hanging down over her knees while the sleeves go past her fingertips. And, of course, she could fold the shirt in half width wise and still climb inside it.
She shakes her head as her nose comes in contact with his bare chest again.
“I can’t take your favorite hoodie, Kookie,” she whispers.
Undeterred, he pulls it over her head. “Why not? You took it before.” As shamed silence greets his tender retort, he smiles and continues softly, “I’m giving it to you, Emmie.” Her name comes out as a soft caress. “Come on. Put your arms through the sleeves,” he commands as he draws the shirt down to her shoulders, revealing her damp head as it pops out through the neckline of that drab sweatshirt. He reaches up and, using his long fingers, gently pulls her hair free of the shirt. He smooths her straight hair down her back.
I watch as that hoodie does indeed drop down nearly to her knees. She is completely dwarfed by it. I can tell by the satisfied look on Kookie’s face that he fully appreciates how cute Emmie looks in his favorite shirt. The affection he feels for her has completely wiped out his desire to keep that beloved, old shirt. He is now delighted to sacrifice it for her.
“Emmie, you look cute in my old shirt,” Kookie compliments her as he grins at her, unleashing the full power of his adorable teeth on her.
Coupled with the rakish angle of his raven locks as they tumble across his brow, the attractive shape of his dark eyes that’s produced as they elongate whenever he grins, and the amplification of his presence that results from his bare chest, Emmie must be drowning in emotions right now. I’m just watching this endearing scene, and the romantic in me has melted into a big puddle on the carpet of my living room floor.
However, the mother in me is ready to separate these two for the night. I clear my throat. Kookie glances up at me. He gets the message. Without another word, he heads to his bedroom for a shirt.
“Emmie, would you like some hot chocolate?”
She glances up at me, and I can now see that her face is crowned by a radiant smile. She nods her head before following me to the kitchen. Why do I get the feeling that tonight is going to be a long night?
