“Both the pampered and the puddle parts are your fault,” he said.
“Should I be apologizing?”
“Mm, no. In fact, I want to stay here in your arms forever.”
“I think the utilities bill might not survive that, and the water would start to get cold, which I know how you feel about that. But I can offer an alternative.”
His eyes cracked open. “What?”
Rinsing the last of the soap from his skin, I shut off the water and reached for one of my oversized towels, wrapping it around his shoulders.
“You could sleep in here with me tonight, if you wanted,” I said.
“You’d want that?”
“If I had it my way, you’d never sleep apart from me again.”
I wasn’t usually the move fast kinda guy. But the second I admitted I had big, capital-F feelings for Oliver, something in me snapped. Or snapped open. Like some emotional floodgate blew off its hinges. Everything I’d half thought about him—wanting him close, wanting him in my space, wanting him in my life—suddenly sharpened into pure certainty. I wanted him tucked against me at night. In my bed, in my arms, that’s where he belonged.
“What if I snore?”
“I don’t recall you being a snorer in the times you’ve conked out when we’ve both been on the couch, but if you were, then I’m certain it would be the most enchanting snore I’d ever heard, and I’d treasure it like a lullaby only I got to hear.”
A shy smile formed on his lips. “And if I hog the covers?”
“You know how warm I run. You’d be helping me with temperature control. Think of it as chivalrous thievery.”
“What about if I roll over and drool on your pillow?”
“Then I’ll kiss the corner of your mouth and tell you how beautiful you look when you’re lost in dreams.”
“You really want to sleep with me?”
“I do, but more than that, I want you content and comfortable. If having your own space tonight is what you need, I’ll honor it without hesitation.”
“I want to stay. I want to be close to you tonight.”
“Then stay,” I said, kissing him.
He leaned into me, his hand tightening around my waist as if a small part of him still didn’t believe this was real.
If he needed touch to believe it was, then he could hang on to me all night. Hell, I’d glue us together if it’d help. I wanted him to know without any doubt how sure I was, how stupidly gone for him I was. I poured all of it into the way I kissed him, the way I held him close to me.
Amidst the dumb jokes, the routines we’d fallen into, the late-night talks about everything and nothing, Oliver had moved in. Not just literally, but right into my chest. And now that he was there, I couldn’t even imagine my life without him taking up that space.
Chapter 27
Oliver
Group lagged tonight. I nodded in the right places, contributed when prompted, listened when it counted, but my thoughts were full of Luke, replaying all our moments together over the past few days. Big and small. The way he handled me with such care. How he said my name like it was the most important thing to ever come out of his mouth. The contented hum he made when I tucked myself closer to him as we fell asleep together. That always did me in. I loved how he appreciated closeness.
Not quite six months ago, I’d been trapped inside my own life, measuring my days by how much more I could take. Endurance had been the only skill I possessed. Survival the only metric that mattered. Imagining long-term happiness had been presumptuous. Dangerous. And now I had everything I once thought was too much to ask for. Safety, not the brittle kind that depends on silence or compliance, but the steady kind that lets me be. Tenderness that didn’t come with an expiration date or a hidden cost. Acceptance that didn’t hinge upon me becoming someone else. Affection that was given freely and not withheld as punishment or manipulation. Love that didn’t require me to fulfil a checklist before earning it.
And I had all of it with the one person I had come to want it with. Living inside that reality left me breathless, and more thana little stunned. At times I couldn’t believe Luke wanted me. But he left no room for doubt. He might have been slow to realize his feelings, but now that they’d arrived, he had no qualms over expressing them.
As Talia and I walked to the smoothie place, she shared about her week, but when we had our smoothies in hand and had claimed a table she tilted her cup, aiming her straw at me.
“Alright, I held my tongue, but you’ve been glowing all night like someone dipped you in moonbeams. Something happened between you and Luke, I can tell, and I have to have the novel, formatted, in first-person past-tense point of view, right now, please,” she said.
