Instead, I cross the room and sink onto the couch beside him.
"Long shift?" he asks.
"Brutal." I reach for the bowl and grab a handful of popcorn, the sweet-salty taste exploding on my tongue. "Trivia night is a blood sport."
His mouth twitches. "People take their trivia seriously."
"You have no idea." I lean back against the cushions, aware of how close we are. Not touching, but close enough that I can feel his warmth, smell the faint scent of pine and soap that clings to his skin. "You should go to sleep. You have to be at work at seven."
"I know."
"So why are you still awake?"
He looks at me, and there's something in his gaze I can't quite read. Something intense. Weighted.
"I wanted to make sure you got home okay," he says.
My breath catches. "Troy—"
"I know you can take care of yourself," he interrupts. "I'm not trying to be overbearing or controlling. I just… I wanted to be here. In case you need anything."
I don't know what to say about that. Or know how to process the fact that this man—this impossibly thoughtful, protective, patient man—is sitting here at two in the morning, exhausted from a long day of work, just to make sure I'm okay.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He nods once, then goes back to watching the TV.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, passing the popcorn back and forth. It should be awkward. It should feel weird, sitting here in the middle of the night with my roommate, who I almost kissed yesterday.
But it doesn't.
It feels… right.
"I'm sorry," I say suddenly.
He glances at me. "For what?"
"For running away. Yesterday. In the garden." I set the popcorn bowl down and twist my hands in my lap. "I panicked."
"I know."
"I'm scared, Troy." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I'm scared of getting hurt again. Scared of losing the house. Scared of messing this up and ruining everything."
He sets his jaw, then shifts on the couch to face me. "Can I tell you something?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"I didn't come to Evergreen Lakes looking for this," he says. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go. I was lost. Directionless. Just trying to figure out how to be a person again after fourteen years of being a soldier."
I watch him, heart thudding.
"And then I met you," he continues. "And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be."
My breath hitches.
"I'm not saying this to pressure you," he says, voice steady and sure. "I'm saying this because you need to know. You asked me what I'm looking for in life, and the answer is simple. I want something real. Something steady. I want to build a life with someone who makes me laugh and challenges me and isn't afraid to tell me when I'm being an idiot."
He leans in, just a little, and my pulse skyrockets.
