I don’t know.
I don’t even know what all of this means. I’m just not ready to go back to Chicago and think of this whole thing in the past tense.
“We talk like friends and kiss like lovers,” I say wistfully. “It’s usually one or the other.”
“I understand.”
“I can see myself differently around him. I see my strengths but also my weaknesses without feeling judged. I’m a better version of me.” I smile to myself. “He walked into my life as if he belonged here. Imagining him not being here hurts.”
Sienna sucks in a breath. “Blaire …”
“Does that sound ridiculous?”
“No, friend. It doesn’t. Not at all.”
I tug the blankets back over me and nestle down in them. If I lay in Holt’s bed and imagine him coming home, to me, everything feels right.
But it’s trickery. And I know it.
“You need to tell him,” Sienna coaxes.
It sounds so easy.
My heart constricts as I think about doing that—telling Holt that I want to explore something more with him.
“My life is in Chicago,” I remind her. “I have a career there. His world is here.”
“So?”
“So, isn’t it practically impossible even if he agrees?”
“Nothing is impossible when it comes to lov—things like this.”
I grin at her slip-up. “I love your romanticism, but I’m still pragmatic. It’s not that easy.”
“Maybe not, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
What if I try …
He could say he’s thinking the same thing and we could attempt to make a long-distance relationship work.
Or he could say it’s not in the cards for him, and he thinks it’s a disaster in the making.
The second option sends a chill ripping down my spine.
“What are you thinking?” Sienna asks.
“Just that I’m not sure what he’ll say. You know, he could say he’snot interested in trying something like this with me, and then what happens?”
“I don’t know. What do you think happens?”
I mull it over.
We’re still operating on an extended one-night stand. But it doesn’t feel like that anymore.
Not with us holding hands. And kisses to the top of my head. With me sleeping in his bed and accompanying him to family events. That’s especially true when I know he doesn’t bring random women to things like that—both his bed and events.
Surely, that means something.
