“Extra blankets are in there too,” he added, nodding toward the closet. “If you get cold.”
Grace stood with the towels in her arms. "Thank you."
The formality of it cut. He'd had his hands in her hair, his mouth on her skin, his body inside hers—and now they were saying "thank you" over towels like polite strangers.
He pointed down the hall.
“That’s my room,” he said, indicating the door on the right. “If you need anything, anything all, you can knock. Wake me up. Anytime.”
Luke stepped past her into the hallway, giving her space. "I'll be downstairs. I want to double check the locks before bed.”
"Okay."
Luke stopped, hand on the bannister, and closed his eyes.
She'd never been here before. He had never invited her. Not into his house, not into his life.
He'd gone to her place dozens of times. Knew which floorboard creaked near her bedroom. Knew she kept her coffee mugs in the cabinet above the sink.
He knew her space intimately.
And she knew nothing about his.
Because he'd never invited her. Never once said,Come see where I live. Let me make you breakfast. Let me give you a drawer.
Christ.
Luke opened his eyes and stared down at his living room—at the couch where he'd sat alone for years, at the kitchen where he'd never cooked for anyone else, at the house that had never felt like a home.
She'd offered him everything.
And he'd given her nothing.
He descended the stairs slowly, each step heavy with the weight of his own stupidity.
Luke heard the bathroom room door close softly. The shower start. The small, ordinary sounds of Grace existing in his space.
It felt good. It felt right.
The living room felt even emptier now.
He'd cared about protecting his reputation. His priorities had been a joke.
Luke sank onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands.
He'd had her.
Warm and willing and brave enough to ask for more.
And he'd said no.
Luke sat in the dark of his own living room and felt the full weight of what he'd lost.
The way she would've looked curled up on his couch with a cup of tea, comfortable and easy, like she belonged there.
She did belong there.
But he'd never given her the chance.
