Home.
The word still feels strange to say. Hunter’s house has always been a second home to all of us, a place we drifted in and out of without thinking twice. But calling ithomenow—for God knows how long—is going to take some getting used to.
Remi barely left my side, handing me drawings, one after another. Stick figures with wobbly smiles. Hearts and stars. Get well soon scribbles and dinosaurs. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. The love, the fussing, the way everyone hovered like they were afraid I might disappear. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.
Hours passed, and my bones grew heavy, my thoughts turning hazy as sleep pulled at the edges of my vision. Hunter noticed—of course, he did—and subtly asked everyone to leave so I could rest. Now, the house is still.
The noise has faded. The warmth of everyone nearby is gone, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Am I asking too much? Taking up too much space? Putting everyone out by being here?
I reach for my phone resting on my chest and open the girls’ chat.
WINE NOT
Me: Sarah are you sure this is okay?
I exhale slowly, my thumb hovering uselessly over the screen as my gaze drifts to the photo of Mom and me on my lock screen. Us smiling in the kitchen after making breakfast.
Before everything.
Sarah: I should be asking if you’re okay with this. I’m the one taking over your place.
Me: But this is where Remi settled.
Sarah: It was never supposed to be permanent. I always planned to find a place of our own.
Me: Okay, but please make yourself at home. Move anything of mine if you need to.
Tessa: Girl, stop stressing. House swapping made the most sense. Hunter’s has more space for you, it’s more central for all of us to come help. And Sarah and Remi get their own place without people coming and going. Win win.
Me: Fine but if it’s too much please tell me.
Sarah: I will. We’ve already sorted everything with your Mom and if you want to come home at any point just say the word.
Me: You guys are the best.
Halle: Duh. Obviously. Now go get some sleep. We’ll see you tomorrow.
I lean over, setting the phone on the coffee table, and freeze when I catch sight of Hunter walking in. He’s shirtless. Low basketball shorts hang on his hips, and something hot and reckless flutters low in my stomach. A flush works its way through me as he crosses the room, slow and unhurried.
In the weeks since I woke up, he’s been my constant. A steady presence when my thoughts spiral. The hands that ground me when my body forgets how to do the simplest things, like how to stand, how to shower, how to breathe without pain. He’s there beside me at night, chasing away the images of the fall before they can consume me. With every passing day, I’ve grown needier. More flustered. The tension between us is palpable—undeniable—humming in every shared glance and lingering touch. Ever the gentleman, he’s insisted on taking it slow. On letting me heal. On waiting.
If he doesn’t touch me soon, I think I might combust.
I need more.
I need to feel him. To quiet the ache building under my skin.
“Hey, baby. I have a surprise for you,” he says, bending down before I can ask what he means. His arms slide under me, and suddenly, I’m lifted off the couch
A low squeal slips out. “What are you doing? My crutches are right there.”
He chuckles, pulling me close against his chest, looking down at me with a grin. “I know, but this seemed more fun for me, and I like touching you.”
I huff, but I don’t argue. Truth is, I love it when he carries me around like this. Like I’m his priority. It’s something new between us, the way he’s been putting me first without hesitation, and I have to say, it’s got me feeling all the feels.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
I purse my lips, narrowing my gaze at him. The corner of his mouth twitches like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
