He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw tightening. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her. God, he wanted to believe her. But she’d been sleepy. Rushed. Distracted. Probably slipped into old habits. Her best friend was hurting, and Ali always showed up for the people she loved—even when it cost her something.
Had she even realized she wrote it?
He’d been so careful. So fucking careful. Letting things build. Letting her feel safe. Letting her take the lead when she needed to. Because the last time he’d told her he loved her, she’d broken down and told him goodbye.
This felt different.
Thiswasdifferent.
Still, he didn’t text back right away.
He let the weight of it settle. Let himself feel it. The ache of not hearing her voice tonight. The sweetness of those three words. The uncertainty wrapped inside them.
She might not have meant to say it.
But she’d said it.
And whether she knew it or not—he’d been hers the whole damn time.
He finally picked up the phone, stared at the screen once more, and typed slowly.
Sleep tight, baby. I’ll be here when you’re ready to say it out loud.
He paused. Then sent one more text:
I love you too.
Crazier
Ali
Ali blinked awake to the pale gray light of morning and a dull ache behind her eyes. The sweetness of the Red Moscato always left her with a headache.
Thank you very much, Diabetes.
Her head rested against the sidearm of the couch, her body curled awkwardly in the same spot she’d been in for hours. Her neck was stiff. Her shirt, wrinkled. Somewhere across the room,Ashley was snoring softly beneath the throw blanket Ali had tucked around her after they’d polished off two glasses of red wine and a half-eaten pint of mint chocolate chip.
Everything from last night rushed back in slow motion—the slammed door, Ashley’s teary rant about Brant and the baby voice he used in arguments (which was, yes, as horrifying as it sounded), the way Ali had shifted gears instantly. From aching to hear Dylan’s voice… to being the friend someone needed.
She reached for her phone on the coffee table and unplugged it from the charger.
Twenty-seven notifications. Group texts. Work emails. A DM from Abigail. Probably a meme or a Reel about the Night Court or the Inner Circle—one of their favorite fandoms.
And two messages from Dylan.
She tapped it without thinking.
Sleep tight, baby. I’ll be here when you’re ready to say it out loud.
I love you too.
Ali sat bolt upright.
Oh my god.
Her heart launched into a sprint, like it was trying to leap out of her chest and run straight to Florida.
No. No no no. I didn’t—
