Eventually, exhaustion wins.We move to my room.I change into sleep clothes while he strips to his boxers.
We climb into bed.Same routine as the last few nights.But it's different now.Because Warren’s down the hall.Because we’re not just hiding from danger anymore.We’re building something.
Devin pulls me close.I settle against him, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.Strong.Steady.Human.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For being so good with Warren.For being patient with me.For staying."
"Nothing to thank me for."
“There’s everything.”
His hand moves in slow circles on my back.Soothing.Grounding.I melt into it, into him.Into the heat of his skin.My breath slows, my eyes half-close.
I think about everything that’s happened.Everything we’ve been through.The fear and violence and the aftermath of it all.But also this, the quiet and safety, along with the possibility of something more.
I look up at him.He’s already watching me, eyes shadowed and open all at once.
"I don’t see a killer when I look at you,” I say quietly.“I see someone who protected me.Someone who chose me.Someone who’s building a life with me instead of just surviving.”
His throat works.“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”I reach up and touch his face.His beard scrapes my fingers, rough and comforting.“I see a future.With you.With Warren.With all of it.”
"I want that too," he says roughly."More than I've wanted anything."
“Then we make it happen.”
"Together?"
"Together."
He kisses me.Soft.Gentle.Full of promise.But behind it—heat.I feel the shift in him.In me.My mouth parts.His tongue brushes mine.A slow tangle, thick with everything unsaid.
When we pull apart, I should settle back.I should let sleep tug me under like I have every other night.But I don’t.
I stay there, my hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart speed up under my palm.
He notices.
“You’re not sleepy,” he murmurs.
“No.”
“Why not?”
I press closer, the thin fabric of my top brushing his bare skin.I can feel his warmth everywhere.“Because I don’t want it to be quiet tonight.”
He lifts an eyebrow.“No?”
I shake my head.
His hand slides down, slow, until it finds the curve of my ass.It rests there, heavy, possessive.I shift against him, and I feel it.He’s already hard.A slow throb against my thigh.
That’s all the invitation I need.
