His arms came around me automatically, strong and secure.
I let myself be held. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, his body warm and solid against mine.
How long had it been since someone had comforted me?
Since I'd allowed myself to be vulnerable to anyone?
His hand stroked down my back, a soothing rhythm that was anything but platonic. The touch awakened every nerve, sending shivers down my spine and reminding me how long it had been since I'd been touched like this.
Since I'd wanted to be touched like this.
When I tilted my face up, his eyes were already on mine, dark with an intensity that made my breath catch. The air between us crackled with unfinished business from the hospital, from seven years ago, from every moment we'd been circling each other since he'd walked back into my life.
"Sadie," he breathed, my name a question and an answer all at once.
He leaned down, and for one breathless moment, I let myself want it. Could almost taste him again after all this time. Could almost let the heat that had been building between us finally ignite.
The furnace kicked on with a low hum, and the moment broke
I pulled back, just slightly, and his hand dropped from my face.
We stood there in the guest room, close enough to feel each other's breath, far enough that the moment had passed.
He understood. I could see it in his eyes. And also, the resignation. This wasn't the right time. Maybe it would never be the right time.
"I should let you get some sleep," he said finally, voice rough.
"Yeah." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold without his warmth. "Thank you. For coming over. For everything."
Something flickered across his face. Perhaps disappointment or relief, I couldn't tell.
"Anytime."
He moved toward the door, and I followed, maintaining the careful distance we'd just established. At the threshold, he paused, looking back at me with something raw in his eyes like longing and restraint warring in equal measure.
"Goodnight, Sadie."
"Goodnight, Easton."
I retreated to my bedroom, closing the door and leaning against the solid wood. My heart hammered in my chest, and phantom sensations lingered on my skin where his touch had been.
It had been so long since I'd felt this overwhelming need to be close to someone.
To him.
As I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I was acutely aware of Easton down the hall. In my guest room. Under my roof. Close enough to touch and impossibly far away.
The secret was crushing me, suffocating me with its weight.
His almost-kiss still burned on my lips. I'd come so close to letting him in completely. But the familiar fear had crept back.
The same fear that had kept me silent for six years.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, desperate for a distraction from thoughts of Easton down the hall. The browser was still open to the website Holly had texted me last week.
Sassy's.
The exclusive club she'd mentioned in passing, half-joking about how I needed to "work out my frustrations somewhere."
