“Josie made me swear not to skip this step.” I squinted at the label on the tube. “With wild mint and horse chestnut to rejuvenate tired calves.”
“That’s absurd,” Reese muttered. “Everybody knows chestnuts don’t grow on horses.”
I laughed softly, already nudging her pants leg above her knee to gain access. My fingers followed the long pull of muscle, feeling where the day had settled into pockets of stress. Her knee tipped inward, heel nudging my ribs as if she were trying to get closer without admitting it.
Somewhere in the middle of it, with her leg stretched across my lap and my hands warm from the friction, a thought slipped in without announcing itself.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her head lifted a few inches, and she aimed a dubious gaze at me through the narrow eye slits of her mask. “Funny how the first time you tell me that, I have this thing obscuring my entire face.”
“That’s what makes all the difference.”
Then she laughed, a tired huff that ended in a yawn. I laughed too, because it felt good to meet her there, because the room was small and warm and all ours for the night. No outside world barging in, waving its expectations in our faces.
She reached for her wine and missed the glass the first time. I pushed it closer. She took a sip and grimaced.
“This wine is going straight to my head.”
“Lightweight.”
She made a face at me, mask crinkling. “Maybe so, but I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that I haven’t eaten since lunch. Yesterday.”
My hands stilled.
“What?”
She waved it off, already sinking back into the cushions. “Don’t start. I was busy. Felt like the whole team either had a strain or needed ice or in Tucker’s case, a few rolls of k-tape.”
“You haven’t eaten,” I repeated, skating over her lame excuse.
“I’m fine. It’s almost time for breakfast.”
I was off the couch before she finished the sentence, my shoulder barking as I pushed up. I ignored it.
“Theo,” she called after me. “Have you lost it? It’s late.”
“It’s dinner time somewhere in the world.” I was already in the kitchen.
Her cupboards told on her immediately. Cereal. A can of tuna that had given up years ago. I shut the door on that situation and opened the fridge. The light blinded me after the smooth candles from the living room, but I’d found my bounty.
“This’ll do,” I muttered under my breath, and got to work.
As the pan heated, my mind kept circling back to the couch. To that whole falling thing... I wanted to tell myself it was way too soon to be thinking like this. That Reese and I had barely scraped the surface of what it meant to be together. Technically, we were still just fooling around in secret.
But also technically… She’d become the closest person to me these past few months. The trust we’d built to keep me on the ice, to get her promotion—it meant something more.
When I came back with my rushed grilled cheese, the living room had gone quiet. Reese had slid sideways, mask off and dangling from her hand where it had dropped over the side of the couch. A soft snore lifted over the muted pop of the dying tealight candles.
And there it was. The truth I’d been circling. Not coming down with fireworks or the hype of a marching band. Just a steady yes. A simple “Of course you’re in love with her, you fool.”
I set the plates on the coffee table and eased myself down beside her, careful of my right side. The couch dipped. She shifted without waking, instinct guiding her closer. Her leg draped over my thigh. Her arm tucked around my middle. Her head found my chest.
“You’re here.” Her words took the form of a mumbled sigh.
I rested my hand against her back and stayed still. Contentment settled in, deep and uncomplicated. “I’m here.”
When my eyes finally closed, the candle was nearly gone.
