“That’s not mutually exclusive.”
I let out a rough exhale. “Lucy.”
“Hm?”
“If you move any closer, I’m going to lose it.”
“…Lose what?”
“My goddamn sanity.”
She smiles—small, wicked, and hidden partly in the dark. “Thought you lost that when I moved in next door.”
“Not helping.”
She sighs and settles onto her back. But the room is too quiet. The dark too intimate. The bed too small. Her breathing too soft.
She whispers into the space between us:
“Thank you for coming for me. For not… leaving me in that cabin.”
I swallow hard. “I wasn’t going to.”
“I know.”
Silence.
She fidgets with the hem of her sweater. “And thank you for…trusting me with Holly. For letting me help decorate. For letting her follow me around like a shadow.”
“She likes you.”
“I like her too.”
That tugs something deep in my gut.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were scared?” I ask quietly.
“Because you always seem so in control,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to be one more thing you had to fix.”
I turn toward her.
She turns toward me.
For the first time tonight, there’s no teasing. No banter. No armor.
Just her.
Her lips part slightly. Her eyes search mine. Her breath brushes my cheek.
We’re too close. Far too close. I should move. I don’t.
Her voice barely registers above the storm outside. “I don’t make you uncomfortable, do I?”
“Yes.”
Her face falls.
I lean in. Close enough that my mouth almost grazes hers. Close enough to feel her inhale.
