"And if we wake up—you know. Like that again?"
He holds my gaze, steady and sure. "Then we wake up like that."
"And the lap incident?"
"Especially after the lap incident."
"Holt."
"What?"
"You can't just say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know what to do with it."
He's quiet for a moment, studying me. "I'm just—being honest."
We clean up in comfortable silence. When it's time for bed, there's still a moment of hesitation—but it's smaller now. Less scary.
I change, brush my teeth, come out to find Holt already in bed. He's on his side this time, facing my side, watching me.
"Hi," I say softly.
"Hi."
I climb in, settle on my side facing him. For a moment we just look at each other in the dim light filtering through the window.
"This is weird, right?" I ask quietly. "Sharing a bed but not—doing anything else?"
"A little."
"But okay weird?"
"Yeah. Okay weird."
I reach out tentatively and my hand finds his on the mattress between us. Our fingers lace together.
His thumb strokes across my knuckles. Once. Twice.
"Goodnight, Scout."
"Goodnight, Holt."
I close my eyes, holding his hand in the darkness, feeling the warmth of him just inches away.
We fall asleep like that—fingers intertwined, facing each other, close but not quite touching.
And sometime during the night, we move closer. Bodies finding each other in the dark. Curling together like we've been doing this forever.
When I wake at three a.m., I'm pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around me, our legs tangled. I can feel him half-hard against my hip again, feel the steady beat of his heart under my ear, feel safe and wanted and home.
This time, I don't panic.
I just press closer and fall back asleep.
Chapter 10
