When I returned to my bedroom, I found her tucked under the covers with her back to me. She had the blanket pulled all the way up past her shoulders, cocooned in it.
I softened my steps, not sure if she had fallen asleep or not while I was gone. She must have heard me come in because she turned her head slightly, her red hair sliding against the pillow––my pillow. I walked around the end of the bed, making my way to the other side.
“I put the fire out, Cass. You can go in the living room now if you want—no rush though. Do whatever you need,” I said, because I wasn’t eager to rush her out of my bed. Cassie lying under my covers made my chest ache in a way that I enjoyed a little too much. She shook her head, letting me know she was fine right where she was.
Cassie was the definition of beauty. I could study the freckles scattered across her cheeks for hours. That morning in her kitchen when I had finally kissed her cherry-red lips, a part of me that I hadn’t realized was broken had finally healed. It broke again when everything crashed and burned though. The childish yearning I’d had for her before that day became an intense hunger after. And my body never let me forget it. Anytime I saw Cassie, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. The intense urge to pull her close and wrap my calloused hands around her soft, perfectly arranged red hair grew with every interaction.
Cassie might’ve had it all together on the outside, but something told me she was waiting for someone to swoop in, take away all her worries, and heal something inside her that had been broken too. Did she wantmeto do it? She had begged me not to stop the first time, but at that point, I hadn’t broken her heart yet. Maybe she was past all of that and didn’t want me anymore.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier. The way she’d wrapped her body around mine, clinging to me for protection from the thing that terrified her most. Was I her safe place like she was becoming mine? I wanted to know the answer so badly. I was spiraling inside, deeper as the seconds ticked by. I tried to hide how much this moment turned me on by staying close to the mattress, but if she glanced down even once, there’d be no hiding it.
She pulled the covers down slightly, her entire face visible now. “Will you sit here with me for a second? Until I’m ready to go back?” she asked, as if I wouldn’t do whatever the hell she wanted me to. She could tell me to go outside in the blizzard and chop down a tree for her, and I would, even if I froze to death.
I adjusted my pants secretively before sitting on the quilt, a wall of fabric dividing our bodies, probably for the best.
“Can I ask you something?” Cassie said, sitting up a little straighter, her legs still tucked under the covers.
“Anything.”
“The day we went to the Grizzlies game—why didn’t you ask me not to drink around you? If I’d known everything I do now, I never would’ve put that kind of temptation near you.”
I took a breath, letting her question sink in. “One thing I’ve learned through this whole sobriety journey is that temptation’s always going to be around—at the grocery store, at restaurants, hanging out with friends. Just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean I should ask others not to. I have to learn how to live with it, how to face it. It’s the only way I can really win the war.”
Cassie watched me for a moment, her expression soft but curious. “What helps you resist it?” she asked, her voice quiet.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck, thinking. “At first? Sheer stubbornness. Then it became about the people who believed in me—Colt, my mom, even you, whether you realized it or not. Every time I thought about giving in, I reminded myself how far I’d come. How much I didn’t want to lose everything again.”
She lowered her eyes, twisting the edge of the blanket in her fingers. “That sounds… exhausting.”
“It is sometimes,” I admitted. “But it’s worth it. Waking up clearheaded, knowing I’m not controlled by something that used to consume me—it’s the best kind of freedom there is.”
Cassie looked back up at me, her eyes glassy with emotion. “Everyone is so proud of you, Jace. You know that, right? I can see it in the way they look at you or brag about you. They all know how hard you’ve worked to pull yourself out of the depths of hell.”
I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten. I hated talking about myself. I didn’t want glory. I just wanted peace.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, rubbing the back of my neck. I might’ve been pushing thirty, but life had already handed me a few hard lessons. When the weight of my past tried to pull me under, I reminded myself that every mistake, every stumble, had shaped who I was now—and made it clear what I wanted for my future.
And dammit, what I wanted was Cassie Blake—always had, always will.
I imagined Cassie on the couch after a long day, hair pulled up, laughing at something I said. Cassie in my kitchen, baking one of her Pinterest-inspired desserts, the smell of sugar and cinnamon filling the air. Her warmth filling the empty spaces in this cabin—and in me.
Sure, I’d screwed up before, but deep down, I knew she hadn’t come to Thanksgiving, baked desserts just for me, or agreed to stay here for nothing—we were getting back on track. And when Cassie and I were full steam ahead, we knew exactly where that could lead.
Her eyes were fixed on mine and filled with need. I was either totally misreading the situation, or Cassie wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
There was only one way to be sure.
“Cassie,” I said, my voice low, rough with want. “If I kissed you right now… what would you do?”
A smile tugged at her lips before she hid it behind the sleeves of her sweater, but I could still see it in her eyes. It pulled me straight in, like the call of a siren in the water, daring me to dive into the pitch black and never look back.
“I’d kiss you back,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice trembling—undoing me.
I inched closer, irritated by the damn blanket between us.
“Cassie Blake,” I murmured, holding out my pinky. “Can I have a second chance to show you how much you mean to me if I pinky promise not to screw it up this time?”
She stared at my hand, then back up at me, like she couldn’t quite believe what I’d said. The air between us grew heavier as each second passed.
