I press my forehead to his. “You don’t have to be anything but exactly who you are.”
He lets out a shuddering breath. “Even when my head’s a mess?”
“Especially then,” I say, meaning it with my whole heart. “That’s when I get to hold you.”
His hands find me, one resting at my side, the other pressed flat against my chest, right over my heart. I cover it with mine. We stay like that as the light fades—mouths barely apart, arms wrapped around each other.
32
GABE
The week after our run by the lake feels easy. Well, not easy, exactly. I don’t think that’s a word I’ll ever be able to use for my mind, but easier. The darkness that usually lurks in the edges of my thoughts feels… quieter. Like someone’s turned down the volume on it.
I haven’t had a nightmare since the night Noah held me while I told him I couldn’t always be happy. Somehow, saying it out loud freed a part of me. I don’t have to keep fighting so hard to seem fine all the time. I have someone who knows me, who understands my past, and isn’t afraid of it.
I still feel sick every time I think about the text from Kyle, but I push it out of my mind before it can latch on. I blocked him, so I don’t know if he messaged again, but I won’t let him claw his way back into my head, not when I’m starting to feel human again.
Every night this week, Noah and I end up in my bed together. He walks me to my door, not wanting but willing to go our separate ways, but every night I take his hand and bring him to my room.
Sometimes we just talk, watch a movie, or I read to him. Sometimes we kiss until I’m lightheaded. We don’t take things further than we have—but we touch more. Kiss more. Fall asleep tangled together.
And every morning I wake up with his arm thrown over my waist, and I just… lie there. Soaking it in. It’s addictive, being wanted as I am.
Noah had a late class at the gym, which means we’ve not seen each other since this morning. How much I miss him feels more intense than I’d like to admit. I’ve spent hours thinking about him, and I’ve written pages and pages in my journal on how his touch feels. How it makesmefeel. There’s something so indulgent about the way Noah touches me; his focus is entirely mine in those moments. He wants to make me feel nothing but good things.
I’m already in bed when I hear his key in the front door, my heart skipping just at the sound of it. I place my journal and pen on the bedside table. When he steps into the room, he looks gorgeous as always, hair damp from showering at the gym. His smile is tired but has a satisfied edge to it. He’s an excellent business owner and takes real pride in Anchor Strength. As he should. He’s put so much work into it.
“Hey, baby,” he says, voice warm and a little rough around the edges.
“Hi, Blue.”
His face lights up at that, like it always does. It fills me with pride that I can make him happy with something so small. He tosses his hoodie and sweatpants into the hamper and climbs into bed in his briefs. After a few nights of him sleeping in sweats and a hoodie, waking up sweaty, I told him to leave them off. I don’t feel nervous about sharing a bed in our underwear. Well, sometimes I do, but it’s a different kind of nervous. The excited kind.
The mattress dips under his weight. I can’t stop looking at him—the muscled planes of his chest, the line of his throat, the fact that he’s here, that I can touch him if I want.
He settles on his side, head propped on one hand. “Long day,” he says with a little sigh. “Aiden’s had to take a few days off with Rose while Lucy’s away, so it’s been me and Jules or Zeke covering everything. We’re keeping up, but damn.”
“You’re doing great,” I tell him. “I actually video called with Aiden and Rose before her bedtime. She said goodnight to me and then drooled on the camera.”
That pulls a laugh from him, his tired expression easing. “She’s the cutest.”
“She is,” I agree, warmth spreading through my chest. “I think she misses you. Aiden said she keeps pointing at your picture on the fridge.”
He grins, and my heart does a silly flip.
“We should take her sometime, give Aiden a break. Maybe a day out,” he says cautiously, though I see the excited hope in his eyes.
“I’d love that,” I tell him honestly. I love seeing them together; he’s so sweet and playful with her. He’d make a great dad. That thought lingers, dangerous in how easily it finds its way to my core. For a split second, I can see it so clearly, him on the floor with a child, that bright laugh of his filling the room with easy joy.
It hits somewhere I don’t let myself go often. Because wanting that, wanting him like that, feels like wishing for something I’m not sure I get to have. I blink the image away before it roots too deeply, reminding myself he’ll see it one day, how much work I really am, and this version of us will fade like a daydream. But for now, he’s mine.
I clear my throat. “I think I’m finally happy with the website layout for the store. I’m going to start getting stock prepped for upload soon.”
Noah’s brows lift, and the look of pride is obvious in his expression. “That’s amazing, Gabe. Seriously. You’ve been working your ass off on that.”
Heat creeps up the back of my neck, but it’s not the bad kind. It feels good to be seen by him. Having his steadfast encouragement.
“Thanks, I know it’s not a big deal…” I say quietly.
