"It's perfect," I say, and I mean it.
She gives me a small smile. "Do you want something to drink? Water? Coffee?"
"Steph." I cross the room and take her hands in mine. "You don't have to play hostess. Just breathe. Okay?"
She nods, exhaling. "Okay."
"Come on." I guide her to the couch, and she sinks down onto the cushions. I sit beside her—close, but not crowding.
For a long moment, we sit there in silence.
Then Steph leans sideways, resting her head on my shoulder.
My heart stutters.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
She doesn't pull away. Just curls into my side, tucking herself against me like she belongs there.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For staying."
I press a kiss to the top of her head—light, careful, nothing more than comfort.
"Always," I murmur. "I'm always staying, Steph. For as long as you'll let me."
She doesn't answer.
But her hand finds mine, fingers lacing together.
And that's answer enough.
Chapter 5
Steph
I wake up to the smell of coffee.
For a moment, I just lay there, disoriented, trying to figure out why my apartment smells like a café instead of the usual nothing. Then memory floods back—the alley, the arrest, Kevin driving me home, Kevin sitting beside me on the couch until I fell asleep against his shoulder.
Kevin.
I sit up, heart hammering, and look toward the living room. The couch is empty; the blanket I'd given him folded neatly on one end. But I can hear movement in the kitchen—the soft clink of a mug, the quiet hiss of the coffee maker.
He stayed.
He actually stayed.
I swing my legs out of bed, hyperaware that I'm wearing an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts and my hair is probably doing something catastrophic. But when I pad out to the kitchen, Kevin doesn't seem to notice—or care.
He's standing at my tiny counter in yesterday's jeans and t-shirt, his back to me, pouring coffee into two mugs like he's done it a thousand times before. Like he belongs here.
The thought makes my chest tight.
"Morning," I say, my voice still rough with sleep.
He turns, and his expression softens when he sees me. "Morning. Hope you don't mind—I raided your coffee stash."
"That's..." I gesture vaguely at the mug he's holding out to me. "That's fine. Thank you."
