The words hung between us, honest and vulnerable, and I felt something shift in my chest. Something that felt too big for my ribs.
“Tally...”
“I know we said we'd take things slow, figure out what this is, but Wilder, I already know. Do you?”
I did know. Had known for a while now, if I was being honest. But saying it felt like stepping off a cliff.
“Yeah, Brownie. I know but I’m scared too,” I said quietly.
“You’re scared? Why?”
My throat constricted. “That I won’t be enough. That one day you’ll wake up and realize you deserve someone who isn’t carrying around a decade or more of daddy issues.” My jaw tightened. “Someone who knowshow to do this right and isn’t just winging it and hoping I don’t fuck it up.”
“Wilder—”
“It scares me that I want to be the reason you wake up smiling, but that one day I might fail you.” I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling my heart hammer beneath my touch. I never opened myself up like this, ever. Only my Brownie had the ability to do that to me.
“Then I guess we’ll both be terrified together,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress down the line. “Because I’m scared of all those things too, because you matter to me Wilder Miller.”
She wasn’t professing her love to me. I wasn’t giving her the words either, but it felt more than that. Somehow it felt more honest. More real.
“You matter to me Tally Brown. So damn much.”
We stayed on the phone, both of us silent knowing we were building something worth fighting for. Something we wanted to keep safe.
“Get some sleep,” I finally said, even though the last thing I wanted was to hang up.
“You, too. Sweet dreams, Mr. Miller.”
“Night, baby.”
After I hung up, I sat in the lounge for a long time, staring out at the dark. The house around me felt too big, too empty, too full of other people's lives.
Finally, I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.
The walk to her cabin felt different knowing she wouldn’t be there, like I was trespassing on sacred ground. But when I used the spare key she'd given me, because she’d finally started locking the door, and stepped inside, the first thing that hit me was her scent, that mix of jasmine and something purely her that seemed to live in the walls.
I didn't turn on any lights, just made my way to her bed and stripped down to my boxers. Sliding between her sheets felt like coming home. The pillow still smelled like her shampoo, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend she was just in the bathroom, about to come back to bed.
For the first time all day, the ache in my chest eased.
I pulled out my phone and sent her a quick text:
Me
Couldn't sleep in my own bed. Hope you don't mind that I borrowed yours.
Her response came almost immediately:
Tally
You better still be there when I get home.
I smiled into her pillow.
Me
Wouldn't dream of being anywhere else.
