“Hey.” I perch beside her. “Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know. Where would you be?”
“Here. With you. Like always.”
“Like always.” She burrows into the covers. “Goodnight. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I strip off and quickly hop into bed.
Amelia falls asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out into that particular rhythm I know better than my own heartbeat. I lie on my back, staring at the dark ceiling, counting the seconds between her breaths.
Julien is probably patrolling right now.
Is he angry?
The moment I turned him down, hurt flashed in his eyes before he masked it. I’ve gotten better at reading his expression, the tiny shifts that reveal what he’s really feeling beneath all that control. And in that moment, I hurt him.
He didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make me feel guilty.
So why does my chest ache like something’s been torn out?
I miss him. His solid presence. The way his arm felt around my waist when we slept. The soft circles his thumb traced on my skin. I miss his rare smiles and how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he looks at me.
I even miss his bluntness.
I touch my lips.
Honestly, I’m fine with it just being practical if he’ll just hold me.
I roll over, squeezing my eyes shut.
Don’t think about him.
Don’t.
An hour passes. Maybe two. Amelia’s breathing stays deep and even while mine grows increasingly ragged. I can’t do this.
I slip out of bed, careful not to wake her, and pull on a sweater. The main room is dark, my parents’ door closed, Dad’s snoring audible through the thin walls. He’s avoiding me, which I welcome.
The cold night air is refreshing against my face. I move through shadows, feet remembering the path to the cabin Julien and I shared for exactly one night.
Our cabin. Not ours. His.
No lights shine from inside. I hesitate at the steps. He could be asleep. Or still on patrol. Or just not interested in whatever this is anymore.
My knuckles hover over the door. What am I doing? What could I possibly say that would explain sneaking out to find him?
I knock anyway. Soft, barely audible.
Nothing.
I knock again, slightly louder.
Still nothing.
I should go back to Amelia, to?—
“What are you doing here?”
