He drags a hand down his face, then nods once. “Yeah.”
There’s no point in asking him to elaborate because that’s all I needed to confirm my theory.
But then he lets out a ragged breath and his shoulders slump, and I make a decision. It might be stupid, it might go sideways, but I don’t care.
I drop my hand and shove to my knees, wrapping my arms around him as far as they’ll go. Without hesitation, he echoes themovement, shifting so he pulls me across his lap. He buries his face in my neck, tightening his grip once we’re settled.
Emotions threaten to pull me under. I’m used to being an anchor for anyone who needs me. But I’m not used to the reciprocity.
Aiden needs me right now, but it’s not until our breaths sync, and we’re wrapped in each other’s arms, that it clicks in my brain that this is exactly what I’ve been terrified of. What I’ve craved almost as desperately as air.
Without saying a word, we’ve made a quieter vow to each other.
I’ll always be here, even in the darkness.
We couldn’t handle it when we were younger, and part of me is grateful for that because I don’t think I could appreciate it the way I can now.
One of my hands cradles the back of his head, my nails scraping down his scalp in a gentle motion.
“Thank you,” he finally murmurs, moving his face across my shoulder in a gentle rocking motion.
“I don’t need that,” I tell him, my voice thick. “I just want to know you’re okay.”
His muscles flex as he squeezes me again. “I will be.”
“Good.”
The semi-death grip on me loosens, and he moves away, taking his version of a weighted blanket with him. I’d probably sleep like the dead if he held me like that every night.
“This is not how I pictured our first night in bed together,” he says once there’s a sliver of space between again.
He huffs out a breath that aims for humor, but falls just a little short.
I smile, even as my chest aches. “No?”
“I was thinking something a little less…existential dread.” He glances at me, then away. “Sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t.” I lift my hand and trace his jawline. “I was worried about you.”
He studies my face, searching. “You were?”
No matter how many steps we’ve taken forward, we’re selling ourselves short if we keep filtering the hard things. Dancing around them because they’re too emotional or raw.
It’s time to be brave enough for both of us.
“I’m not ready to fully say how I feel about you,” I say, the words coming slowly. “But you need to know that this is real to me. Maybe in the beginning, I tried to convince myself otherwise because it felt safer that way.”
His breath hitches, but I ignore it and plunge ahead.
“I don’t want you to hurt alone, Aiden. I’m here to help carry some of that, too.”
He swallows, the hand still at my back pressing me closer, tipping me toward him.
“Maybe I was wrong to think Dad’s will was a curse,” he rasps, his eyes on me. “Maybe he wanted me to see what was right in front of me.”
I don’t want to hope for that, but my heart is a traitor.
When his lips meet mine, it’s a tender promise. No racing pulse, no fireworks. Something much deeper and satisfying. His mouth lingers for a second longer than it needs to for the moment, then he pulls back, forehead resting against mine.
