“That was it,” he says softly.
“That was what?” I ask, not quite understanding.
“The thing that’s hot about you.”
“You mean trusting you?”
“Ilovethe way you trust me,” he says with reverence.
I reply without hesitation. “It’s the easiest thing I do.”
“Someonesecond-guessed my every move and made me doubt myself. She made me so nervous to make decisions, I began to think I had an anxiety disorder. Turns out, the condition was isolated to Knoxville.”
I stifle a laugh. “I’m so sorry. I’ve experienced that too. Whatever I do, I should’ve done something else, but I don’t see how I helped you at all.”
“It only took four weeks with you.Four weeksof watching your face light up when I brought you an energy drink or fixed your ceiling fan—when I made everyone leave so you could write a paper. It’s like no one’s ever had your back before, and every time I do the smallest thing, you look at me like I’m some kind of hero. It’s addicting.”
“You do what you say you’re going to do. And even when you’re frustrated, you’ve never raised your voice or let me down. Consistency and self-control are underrated sexy powers, Jude. You could teach the class on that.”
Oh, hello, filter-less Lucy. Make yourself at home. Say anything.
“Lu…” His voice sounds rough and a little pained. I’m out of my lane, all over the road like a late-night driver in a storm. “It’s a good thing I don’t have keys, or I’d be on your doorstep before daylight.”
What?
He drags in a slow breath. “Remember right after you moved in when I came to set up a new router? Your class ran over, and you were late for work, but you had groceries to put away. I took the bags from your hands and said, ‘Go change. I got this.’ When you looked up at me with those big glassy green eyes … you should’ve asked for all my money and the keys to my car right then.”
“I remember,” I say, eyes getting glassier by the minute. “You handed me my keys and hugged me as I rushed out and said, ‘Breathe. I got you.’”
“I didn’tplanto hug you. I just thought you needed it. I knew from watching Sam you didn’t like to be ambushed, but you collapsed into me and said, ‘I know you do.’”
“That was the first time it happened,” I say, remembering how calm he was. Letting me cling to him for five seconds reset my whole day.
“Was it the first time we hugged?”
“Maybe? But my mind was racing over everything I had to do, and you just … helped.”
“So it was the first time you tried tosteal my soul,” he teases.
“First of all,youhuggedme, but I shoplifted some serotonin,” I confess, and hear him take a steadying breath.
“You know, my ex tried to keep me away from here. She thought the guys were turning me against her. She just couldn’t manipulate me with witnesses. We didn’t fit, and there was no reason to keep trying. You were here a couple of weeks, and suddenly the five of us fit like a family, butyou and me…” He trails off, but I know.
I don’t have older brothers, but I’ve always adopted some sort of brother-adjacent, kindred spirit wherever I lived. The first time I heard Jude’s voice, before we ever met, that’s what I expected he’d be.
Butthisis notthat.
“However you break it down,” he continues, “she’s the one who didn’t fit, and one time Sam said relationshipsare like—”
“Jackets.” I grin, thinking of my own conversation with Sam.
“Right.” He chuckles. “You try it on, and if it doesn’t fit…”
“You take it off.” We laugh as we finish Sam’s ironic bit of wisdom in unison.
“He’s such a care bear.” I smile to myself.
“He’s oddly insightful.”
