Bryce chortled. “Wooowwww. That was very telling.”
Beth groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You are so annoying.”
“You so love me.” He chuckled.
Dragging her hands down her face, she peeked at him. “So where are you going to sleep? There’s no bed in the guest room.”
Bryce leaned back on his heels. “There’s a Murphy bed hidden in the floor-to-ceiling shelving unit.”
Beth blinked. “Oh.”
Bryce just grinned.
Beths gaze dropped to her book—not reading, just stalling. She could feel his eyes on her, but it wasn’t amusement anymore. It was understanding.
She hated that he had figured out her freak-out before she had even found the courage to talk to him about it.
Eventually, he’s going to get tired of chasing me.
As if he could hear the thought, Bryce spoke.
“Sweetheart,” his voice steady and sure, “I love you. And I know this is all new and happening so fast. So, I will happily keep chasing after you—” his fingers brushed lightly over her knee, grounding her, “—until the day you start running to me when you’re hurt or overwhelmed.”
Beth sucked in a quiet breath. Something deep inside her shifted and she bit her bottom lip, pressing it between her teeth to keep from accidentally saying it back.
‘I love you too’ almost slipped out—so easily, so naturally. But she caught herself, not sure she was ready. Not yet. It was still too soon.
Instead, she swallowed hard, exhaling slowly.
“I came here to work up the courage… to talk to you” she admitted.
Bryce waited. He didn’t push.
Beth dropped her eyes to where his fingers still rested lightly against her knee, tracing small, absentminded circles. The warmth of his touch steadied her.
“It’s embarrassing but I—” she hesitated, her throat tightening with nerves, “I hate that I don’t remember.”
Bryce’s brows pulled together slightly. “Remember what?”
She forced herself to lift her gaze to his, embarrassment flickering across her face. “Our night in Vegas.”
“I know… I know it probably seems silly, and maybe it shouldn’t matter, but it bothers me that I can’t remember my first time.” Her voice dropped slightly, something raw and uncertain slipping through. “And you do.”
Bryce’s breath hitched ever so slightly.
He shifted so he could look directly at her. “Beth… I don’t remember either.”
She blushed, shaking her head. He misunderstood why.
“It’s true,” he said gently. “I vaguely remember waking up at some point in the night, snuggled up to you, but even that is more of a memory of how it felt than anything else.”
His voice dropped lower, something reverent in the way he spoke. “I remember feeling like it was the best thing I’d ever experienced.”
“But the details?” He exhaled lightly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t remember. Not in the way you seem to think.”
Her hands curled into her lap, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… you do… remember your first time.”
Bryce stilled.
