My throat tightens.
I don’t say something dramatic. I don’t make it a big speech.
I just lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead.
Then another, slower one, like I’m sealing the promise into her skin.
“I’m here,” I murmur.
Sloane’s eyes close for a second, like she’s absorbing it.
When she opens them again, her voice is quieter. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I echo.
She stretches, then scrunches her nose. “I need another shower.”
I lift a brow. “You sure you want to leave me alone in your bed?”
Sloane smirks. “You’re welcome to come with me.”
My brain short-circuits for half a second.
Then I cough. “I’ll…make coffee.”
Her smile turns wicked. “Probably the safer option after last night but a lot less fun.”
I point at her. “Go.”
She laughs and slides out of bed, grabbing one of my shirts off the chair like it’s been hers forever.
She pauses at the door and looks back at me.
Not teasing now.
Just…looking.
Then she says, softer, “Don’t leave.”
It’s not dramatic. It’s not begging. It’s a simple truth.
I nod once, steady. “I won’t.”
Sloane disappears down to the bathroom, and a minute later the shower clicks on, water rushing like a curtain.
I sit there for a second, staring at the spot where she was.
Then I finally climb out of bed, roll my jaw, and wince.
“Worth it,” I mutter to myself.
I pull on sweats, run a hand through my hair, and head for the kitchen.
The house is quiet, but not dead quiet.
There’s a faint sound from Cameron’s room—movement, maybe. The shuffle of someone who slept but didn’t rest.
I start the coffeemaker and lean on the counter, staring at nothing.
