“Thank you.”
My throat tightens.“Anytime, Wren.”
She’s soft against me — not sensual exactly, but threaded with want and vulnerability that feels like a secret she didn’t mean to share.As we walk out, her body sways into mine, her hip brushing mine with every step, and each touch sparks something warm, something hungry, something I have to hold back for her sake.
When we get outside, the cold air hits her, and she shivers violently.I pull her close, tucking her under my arm.
“You good?”I ask.
She nods against me.“I like this.”
“What?”
“Being close to you.”
My heart trips.
Shit.
I’m falling.
Hard.
I guide her to her building, which, surprisingly, is less than a block from the bar, then help her up the stairs with her hand in mine.When we reach her door, she fumbles with the keys.
“I’ve got it,” I say softly, taking them from her and unlocking the door.
She steps inside and turns to look at me, eyes wide, pupils blown, lips parted — not because she wants something physical, but because she’s raw and unguarded and she trusts me.
“Stay,” she whispers.
Not a kiss.
Not a touch.
Just one word that feels like it carries the weight of her whole chest.
I step inside and shut the door behind us.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” I promise.
She nods, relieved, and walks toward her bedroom.I follow at a respectful distance.She sits on the edge of her bed, pulls off her hoodie, then stops — frozen, unsure.
“Do you want help?”I ask gently.
Her breath trembles.“Just...sit with me?”
I do.
She leans into my side, warm and trusting, her cheek against my shoulder again.My arm goes around her naturally, and she exhales like she’s been waiting to be held.
I lower her back onto the pillows slowly, brushing hair from her forehead.Her eyes flutter.
“Finn?”she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell them.”
