And the house is still quiet.
"We survived," I whisper.
"Barely." He presses a lazy kiss to my jaw. "This bed frame is a snitch."
"I'm buying a new one tomorrow."
"Buy something sturdy. I have plans for you."
“Oh?” I laugh into his chest…soft, giddy, the kind of laugh that belongs to a woman who just let herself have something she didn't think possible.
He pulls me against him, my back to his chest, his arm heavy and warm around my waist. He nuzzles my hair.
"Cam?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
I lace my fingers through his and press his hand against my heart.
"I love you, too."
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, the quiet of this house doesn't feel lonely.
EPILOGUE - CHEVY
Simon Reyes is talking shit and I am losing to a twelve-year-old kid.
"That's a travel!" I shout, pointing at his feet. "You shuffled. I saw it. Both feet moved. Textbook traveling."
Simon grins at me from the other side of the driveway, the basketball tucked under his arm, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "That wasn't a travel. You're just slow."
"Slow? I’m a firefighter. You gotta be quick to run into burning buildings, you know. I am theoppositeof slow."
"Then how come I just blew past you?" He spins the ball on his finger—a move he's been practicing. "Face it, old man. You're washed."
Old man?This kid has been calling me old man for two weeks and every time it hits me right in the pride. I'm thirty-four. I have abs. I did a pull-up yesterday without grunting.
I amnotold.
But I'm also down by six points and my knees are starting to really notice this concrete, so maybe he's not entirely wrong.
"Alright, hotshot." I crouch into a defensive stance, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. "Bring it. Let's see what you've got."
He drives left—a fake, then a crossover that I have to admit is pretty clean for a seventh grader—and blows past me again. He pulls up at the edge of the driveway, rises, and sinks a jumper that swishes through the net as if it was choreographed.
He throws both arms up. “Yes! In your FACE!"
I clutch my chest and stagger backward like I've been shot. "That was a travel and you know it."
"You keep saying that word. I don't think it means what you think it means."
"Did you just quoteThe Princess Bride?"
"Mom made me watch it." He shrugs, but he's fighting a grin. "It's not terrible."
I point at him. "Your mom has excellent taste."
