When I lay her down, I take my time. I want her to feel chosen, cherished, safe. I want her to know I’m not going anywhere.
She reaches for me, pulling me closer, and when I finallysink into her warmth, the world narrows to the sound of our breathing and the way she fits against me, as if she always belonged there. We move slowly at first, finding a rhythm that feels like trust. Like home.
She wraps her legs around me, forehead pressed to mine, whispering my name like a prayer. I kiss her through it—through the way she opens and gives and finally lets herself have this. The intensity builds quietly and deeply, not rushed, not frantic. Just inevitable.
When she comes undone in my arms, it feels like fireworks under my skin. Like everything I’ve ever held back, finally has somewhere to go. I follow her, holding her close, grounding us both through it, through the way we fall apart together and come back whole.
After, I don’t move. I keep her tucked against me, her head on my chest, my hand tracing slow circles along her back. She’s warm and genuine and mine in a way that feels sacred.
“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” she says quietly.
I kiss the top of her head. “Me neither.”
But I think I did. I think I always knew it would with Poppy.
I hold her a little tighter and close my eyes, already certain of one thing.
This isn’t the end of something. It’s the beginning.
Chapter 18
Poppy
House Again by Hudson Westbrook
I’m sitting at my desk in the little office off the auto shop, and I still can’t believe this is my life. Last weekend I married my best friend, and this week I’m having fun teaching kids. And Mr. Fisher has been fun to work with, too. You can tell he’s tired and done. He’s ready to retire. But he seems like a good man who genuinely enjoys what he does and is happy to pass on the torch.
The high school smells like oil and metal and floor cleaner, and the windows on the bay doors let sunlight spill across concrete floors that have already seen better days. The kids are loud and curious and actually listening. I love it here. I love the hum of engines and the way my hands feel after a morning of teaching, rather than just fixing things in a rush.
Ollie’s on speaker phone, static crackling softly from the firehouse. “How’s your day going?” he asks as I finish my lunch. Some of the teachers asked me to go in on takeout, butI’m still trying to catch up on bills. But it feels great to have co-workers finally and to be included. Someday.
“Great,” I say, smiling at nothing. “I think I might actually love my job.”
“That makes me ridiculously happy for you, baby,” he says. “I’m on shift but keep me on. I want to hear everything.”
I’m just about to tell him more when Mack pops her head in the doorway, eyes bright.
“Hey,” she says. “I talked to the counselor. I’m officially switching to auto tech.”
“Hey, Mack!” Ollie calls through the speaker like he’s announcing a celebrity sighting.
“Hey, Ollie!” she shoots back, equally serious about it.
“That’s amazing,” I say. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to have a lot of fun.”
She grins, rocking back on her heels. “Yeah. I wanna learn from you. A bunch of my friends are trying to switch, too.”
My chest does that warm, expanding thing again, the one that sneaks up on me when I’m not paying attention. “I’d love that.”
“See?” Ollie says smugly through the speaker. “Absolute legend.”
I snort. “I don’t know about that.”
“I didn’t think us girls were really allowed out here. I mean...I guess we were. But it didn’t feel very welcome. We’re glad you’re here. One of my friends Emily and I are thinking about getting an old car to restore. My dad even said he’d try to help us find one to work on.”
I smile at this because this is exactly what I wanted it to be like for the kids. I never took shop class when I went there. Mostly because my whole life was a shop class outside of school. School was the one place I could go to escape the shop under my dad’s thumb. But the fact that kids are excited aboutthis and choosing it makes me feel good. Kinda like what Ollie’s doing coaching basketball. Making places safe for kids that need them.
Mack beams. And just like that, the shop feels exactly like it’s supposed to.
