I freeze, not out of fear, but out of anticipation.
“I’ve always put up walls,” he continues. “Big ones. Steel and stone and whatever else I could find. Because I didn’t want to be left again. Didn’t want to be heartbroken.”
He pauses, and I feel his chest rise and fall beneath me.
“But with you … I can’t help it. The walls just fall. Crash to the floor like dust. You do something to me, Stormy. Something I can’t explain.”
I lift my head, meeting his eyes in the dim light.
“I want to be the one who protects you,” he says. “Not because you need protecting—you’re strong as hell. But because I want to be there. If you ever need me.”
My throat tightens, and I reach up, brushing my fingers along his jaw.
“I think I’m falling for you, too,” I whisper. “I didn’t think I could. After … him. I didn’t even want to look at another man again. I was done.”
His eyes search mine, quiet and open.
“But you’re different,” I say. “So different. Everything you’ve done has been for me. The truck, the coconut water, the snacks, the lake, the guitar … even just showing up. You’ve made me feel seen. Safe. Wanted.”
I pause, letting the words settle between us.
“But it’s not just that,” I continue quietly. “It’s the little things, too.”
I glance at him, then down at his thumb stroking me.
“The way you drive with one hand on the wheel, but the other is ready to steady me. The way you rub the back of your neck when you’re nervous. The way you curse at inanimate objects when you’re working, like they’ve personally betrayed you.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth, but it fades just as quickly.
“How you care about everyone and everything. Especially those animals of yours. You talk to them like they’re family.”
I swallow with my heart thudding.
“And the way you keep trying. Even when it’s hard. Even when no one’s watching. You try to be the best version of yourself for the people you love.”
I look up at him again, eyes searching his.
“I’m learning to love those things. The quiet parts of you. The ones you don’t even realise you’re showing.”
He pulls me closer until his forehead is resting against mine, and I feel the warmth of him wrap around me like a promise.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “But I want this. I want you.”
He doesn’t hesitate.
“I want you too, Stormy. More than I’ve wanted anything in a long damn time.”
He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. His thumb brushes over mine, slow and steady. And as we lie there, tangled in sheets and truth, I know something’s shifted.
The quiet stretches between us. His thumb still traces slow circles over mine, and I feel like I could stay in this moment forever.
I shift, just enough to meet his eyes.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” I murmur. “I’m … grateful. For you. For your family. For all of it.”
His brow furrows, just a little.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
