When she emerges from the bathroom wearing my clothes, her hair damp and clinging to her shoulders, something primal and possessive stirs in my chest. She looks right here, in my space, wearing my things.
“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” I ask, gesturing to the king-sized mattress that dominates my bedroom.
“I usually sleep on the right,” she answers, hovering hesitantly at the edge of the room.
“Left side it is, then.” I pull back the covers for her, watching as she slides between the sheets. After turning on the TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed, I join her, careful to leave a respectful distance between us.
She notices, of course. “I don’t bite, you know,” she teases, patting the space beside her. “Unless you want me to.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” She grins, and for a moment, all the shadows in her eyes are gone. “What are we watching?”
I hand her the remote. “Your choice.”
She scrolls through the options, stopping when she sees a familiar title. “Oh!Friday Night Lights. Have you seen it?”
“Have I seen it?” I raise an eyebrow. “Clear eyes, full hearts…”
“Can’t lose,” she finishes with me, her smile widening. “No way. You’re a fan too?”
“One of the best shows ever made,” I confirm, settling back against the pillows. “Used to watch it overseas whenever I could. Something about it just…helped, you know? Reminded me of home, even when I was trying to forget.”
“My comfort show too,” she admits, selecting an episode from season one. “I used to hide in my room and watch it when things got bad at home. It made me believe that somewhere people actually cared about each other like that.”
The casual way she references her childhood hits me in the gut. I know enough about the Walsh family to understand that her upbringing was far from ideal, but hearing her talk about it so matter-of-factly makes me want to hunt down everyone who ever hurt her.
“Come here,” I say, holding out my arm.
She scoots over, nestling against my side like she belongs there. I pull the blanket up over us both as the familiar theme song plays.
“I always wanted to be like Coach Taylor,” I admit, absently stroking her hair. “The way he led, you know? Firm but fair. Demanded excellence but showed compassion too. It’s what I imagined life would be like when I came home.”
“Mmm,” she hums against my chest. “I could see that. You’ve got that whole strong, silent type thing going.”
“That so?”
“Definitely. And Tami Taylor was my role model,” she says. “Strong, smart, didn’t take crap from anyone, but had the biggest heart. I wanted to be like that.”
“You are,” I tell her, and I mean it. “Strong as hell, but kind too.”
She tilts her head up to look at me, surprise in her eyes. “You think?”
“I know.”
We watch in comfortable silence for a while, her body warm against mine. Occasionally, one of us comments on a scene or quotes a line just before the character says it, making the other laugh. It feels…normal. Comfortable. Like we’ve been doing this forever instead of just one night.
As the episode ends, she yawns, her eyelids growing heavy. “One more?” she asks sleepily.
“One more,” I agree, though I doubt she’ll make it through. Sure enough, halfway through the next episode, her breathing deepens and evens out, her body going slack against mine.
I look down at her sleeping face, all the tension gone from her features. She looks younger in sleep, more vulnerable, and the need to protect her swells in my chest until it’s almost painful.
Carefully, I reach for the remote and turn off the TV, plunging the room into darkness except for the soft moonlightfiltering through the curtains. I should probably move her, give her space to sleep comfortably, but I can’t bring myself to disturb her. Instead, I adjust my position slightly, settling in with her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders.
This wasn’t how I expected my night to go when I drove home from work. Hell, this wasn’t how I expected any part of my life to go. I came back to Grizzly River to make amends, to help Jesse, to try to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with the rest of my life now that the military was behind me.
I never expected Atlee Walsh to crash into my carefully ordered existence, turning everything upside down.
