"Chase…"
"I'm not done." His eyes stare into mine. "I see you, Paisley. I see how strong you are, even when you think you're weak. I see how you're trying to live this life you were thrown into. You've been open to everything since you came here. Whether that be learning how to take care of a horse, or cook over a gas stove. You're learning who you are out here, and you're not shying away from what you're finding. I see all of it, and I want you to know something."
My breath catches in my throat.
"I would be honored," he says slowly, deliberately, "to show you the difference between a man who didn't know what he had in front of him, and one who does."
The air between us is crackling with attraction. His hands are still cradling my face, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body where we're pressed together. My own hands have somehow found their way to his chest, and I can feel his heart thumping under my palms.
"I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious," I whisper honestly. "I'm still such a mess."
"That's why I said we'll take it slow, even before I knew any of this" he murmurs. "We'll take it at whatever pace you need. But I need you to know that I'm interested, Paisley. I have been since you got here, and learning about your past doesn't change that. If anything, it makes me respect you more."
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
"Because you're here. Because you didn't let it destroy you completely. Because you're trying to rebuild, even though I know how hard that is. I've been there, remember? After my wife died, I thought I'd never feel anything again. But then you showed up in my field, ready to end your life. I stopped you, and everything that didn't have meaning before, had it again."
"Thank you. I know that wasn't easy." I rest my forehead against his chest again, breathing in the spicy scent of him. "Thank you too," I whisper. "For listening. For not judging. For being exactly what I needed tonight."
His arms tighten around me, one hand stroking down my back.
"Anytime, Paisley. I mean that. You want to talk at three in the morning? My door's open. You need to cry? I've got shoulders built for it. You need space? I'll give it to you. Maybe not a ton since this is a small cabin, but I'll give you what I can. Whatever you need, I'm here."
We stay wrapped up in each other while the wind howls outside and the snow continues to fall. For the first time since that horrible day in Stanley's apartment, I feel like maybe I'm not completely alone in this. Like maybe there's someone who actually sees me and wants to help carry the weight.
Eventually, my tears slow, and I become aware of how late it is, how tired I am, how I'm standing in Chase's bedroom in nothing but sleep shorts and a tank top pressed up against his bare chest.
"I should probably go back to my room," I say reluctantly.
"Or," Chase says carefully, "you could stay here. I'll sleep on top of the covers if you want me to. I just don't want either of us to be alone after that."
The offer is everything I've wanted, but not asked for. I'm tired of being alone, but I need to make sure he's okay with it too. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." He releases me, and I miss his warmth as soon as he lets go. "Let me just grab a shirt."
"Don't," I blurt out, then feel my cheeks heat. "I mean, if you're comfortable. You don't have to."
He raises an eyebrow, a half-smile playing at his lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I move toward the bed, suddenly shy. Stanley is the only man I've ever slept with. "Which side do you sleep on?"
"Doesn't really matter to me. You can pick."
I choose the right side, sliding under the covers that still hold the warmth of his body. Chase moves to the left side. He turns off the bathroom light, plunging us into darkness broken only by the faint moonlight reflecting off the snow outside. When I lift the blankets, he scoots underneath them.
"Paisley?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you told me. I know it wasn't easy, but I'm glad you trusted me with it." The quiet words mean more than he knows.
I turn on my side to face him, and even in the dim light I can make out his profile.
"I'm glad too," I admit. "I feel lighter than I have in months. Like I've been carrying around this weight for so long, and I've finally put it down."
"Good." He turns his head to look at me. "Now try to sleep. You're safe here."
I close my eyes, and for the first time in months, sleep comes easily.
