“Let’s not talk about tomorrow,” I murmured. “Not yet.”
Juniper nodded, eyes closing as she leaned into the touch. “Alright,” she whispered. “Just this.”
We sank down onto the couch, bodies folding together like puzzle pieces finally found. I wrapped an arm around her, feeling the steady beat of her heart against my ribs.
She sighed, a soft sound that made something ache inside me. She didn’t say much after that, just curled in closer, and the weight of her against me was like the softest promise. Her breath slowed, her lashes resting against her cheeks — and then, before I knew it, she was asleep.
I stayed still for a moment, letting the quiet swell around us. My heart hammered in my chest — not from adrenaline, but from something deeper. I couldn’t believe this was real. Thatshewas here,again, asleep on my chest.
Careful not to wake her, I eased my arms around her, lifting her up like she was made of glass and moonlight. Every movement felt sacred as I carried her to my —our— bedroom down the hall, the one she’d fallen asleep in all that time ago.
Her head lolled softly against my shoulder as I laid her down on the bed. I pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in like she was the most precious thing I’d ever known.
I sat down beside her, barely breathing, watching the rise and fall of her chest. “Juniper,” I whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead, my fingertips lingering.
Her eyes fluttered open, sleepy and soft. “Hey,” she murmured, voice thick with dreams.
“I’m still here,” I said, voice low. “But I’m still not convinced this isn’t a beautiful, impossible dream.”
She smiled, a tiny, tender thing, reaching up to thread her fingers through mine. “It’s real. I’m real.”
I cupped her face, thumb tracing slow circles. “You’re everything.”
She shifted closer, sighing, and I let my hands wander — slow, reverent caresses along her arms, tracing the delicate line of her jaw, down to cradle her neck. “Don’t go getting all sappy on me, cowboy.”
We didn’t say much else. Words felt too loud, too big. But in those quiet moments, with our bodies tangled and breaths mingling, everything spoke — all the love, all the fear, all the hope we’d been holding back. “Don’t move,” I whispered, quickly grabbing her a shirt from the dresser.
I tugged her sleepy frame up, one hand splayed against her back to keep her steady. “Arms up, kid.” I instructed, tugging her road trip dress off of her in a single motion.
Her smile softened, warmed into something that I could have found myself falling into… maybe even forever.
With the dress tossed aside, her fingers fumbled behind her for her bra clasp. “Hate this stupid thing,” she muttered, her words still rough around the edges.
“Let me?” I offered — my hands hovering just above hers. She nodded, pressing her forehead to my collarbone. “I consider myself somewhat of an expert,” I joked, turning to press a kiss to her temple.
She laughed, but didn’t move as I unhooked it, sliding it off without a thought.
That’s when Iknewsomething was deeply broken inside of me. Because instead of ogling herperfectshape… I just wanted to hold her. I dressed her in my shirt before pulling her against my chest. With the smallest of sighs, she nestled in close.
I brushed a stray curl behind her ear, fingers lingering at the nape of her neck. She sighed again — a small, content sound that made my chest tighten.
“Feels like I could just stay right here forever,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep. I tightened my arms around her, careful not to crush her, just enough to let her know I was here, that I wasn’t going anywhere.
Her breath tickled my collarbone as she shifted, pressing a light kiss there, warm and tentative.
This,this, was richer than any movie could have made me. More heartfelt andrealthan any script or fame or check.
And I’ll be damned if I let this stupid indie film let me forget howthisfeels.
CHAPTER 63
When I woke the next morning — after anextremelyfitful night’s sleep — Ansel sat on the edge of the bed, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his knee. His jaw was tight, eyes restless, and even though the calm in the room begged otherwise, he looked like he was gearing up for a battle.
“Good morning,” I muttered, pushing my hair out of my eyes. He looked like he couldsnapat any given second. “Sleep okay?”
One single shake of his head — that was the only answer I received.
We danced around each other the entire morning. Neither of us ate breakfast. Ansel downed three cups of coffee in the time it took me to pin my hair up and slip into a soft dress.
