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Summary
They’ve been dating for seven weeks and three days (not that Tim is counting or anything) when the memory comes back to him, and he has to fight a smile even as Lucy tugs on his hand, trying in vain to get him off of the couch while he playfully swats at her.
He remembers sitting in the shop, the two foot space between them insurmountable and the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
How’s single life?
It’s good. No one to complain when I want to watch football all Sunday.
“Tiiiiiiiiim.”
Tim chuckles and pulls Lucy down on top of him instead of letting her tug him off of the couch. She huffs in surprise but melts against him immediately, her knees bracketing his hips as he runs his hand up and down her back, underneath the large sweater that he’s certain is his no matter how often she denies it.