Thursday, after bringing him dinner at the gym and going home—to her home, now one she kind of thought of as theirs—she waited. She bit her nails. She weeded and re-weeded. But when he returned, tired and carrying a red rose for his thorny chick of a girlfriend, she chickened out.
“You okay?” he asked as they snuggled after another marathon session of sex. God, if she hadn’t been on the pill, she felt sure he’d have knocked her up already. The man had stamina.
“Great.” She sighed. “Just tired.”
“Oh, okay. You’ve seemed distracted lately.”
“Only in the best way.” She kissed his chest and hugged him.
She heard him sigh and felt him kiss her hair, then hug her back.
She woke later in the dark of early morning to him moving around, restless in his sleep. He moaned, and at first she thought she’d hurt him.
“Gavin?”
Groggy, she didn’t realize he’d been caught in a nightmare until he started moaning, “No, no. Don’t get in the truck, damn it. It’s not safe.”
She quietly crept out of bed and got him a cup of water. When she returned, she turned on a side light and saw him clearly distressed.
“Oh, Gavin. It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, frowning and straining. Then… “Zoe?”
Was he dreaming or awake? She stayed where she was, by the side of the room, just in case.
“Fuck, Zoe,” he muttered. “Don’t go.”
She blinked, surprised to find her eyes burning. She sipped the water she’d fetched for him and watched him ease back to sleep. When she’d given him a good ten minutes, she moved tentatively back to his side.
He turned over, took her in his arms, and sniffed her neck.
“Gavin?” She stroked his hair.
He sighed, murmured, “Zoe,” then fell back asleep.
“I love you.” Finally. She had no trouble saying it.
And he couldn’t hear her.
She didn’t have to work hard to imagine what Aubrey’s response to that would have been—Lightweight.
