I’m not sure I believe her, but I want to. Maybe that’s enough for now.
We stand there in the bathroom, wrapped around each other, until the air goes cold and Eva starts to shiver again. I grab a towel and wrap it around her shoulders, then another for myself, and we stumble to my bed—our bed now, really—still damp, tangled together under the covers.
“Hey, Asher?” Eva murmurs against my chest.
“Mm?”
“For the record, I don’t think loving someone is supposed to feel safe.” She props herself up on one elbow. “I think it’s supposed to feel exactly like this. Terrifying and worth it.”
I pull her against me, tucking her head under my chin. “Terrifying and worth it,” I repeat. “That sounds about right.”
Outside, the wind rattles the windows. Inside, Eva’s breathing slowly deepens into sleep. I lie awake for a while longer, feeling the unfamiliar lightness in my chest. I said it. I actually said it. And the world didn’t end. It expanded and filled, and I fall asleep excited for what adventure comes when we wake.
24
Eva
The morning of my soft opening, I wake up to the sound of my phone exploding with texts.
Eden
ETA 2 hours! Nate is driving like a grandma, but I have snacks!
Esther
Koa wants to know if there’s a coffee maker in the room. I told him you’re not a monster, but he’s paranoid.
Eila
Ben says hi. Also, we’re bringing hops cuttings. For reasons.
Eliza
Reed and I are bringing three kinds of cheese. You’re welcome.
Esther
Also, I’m inspecting the breakfast setup. Fair warning.
I groan and bury my face in the pillow. Asher’s arm wrap around my waist.
“They’re not even here yet, and they’re already being a lot,” he mumbles into my hair.
“That’s the Storm experience.”
“I’m aware.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You ready for this?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” I roll over to face him. “What if everything goes wrong? What if the rooms aren’t ready? What if the syrup experience is boring? What if Baabara eats someone?”
“The rooms are ready. The syrup experience is excellent. And Baabara has never eaten a person.” He pauses. “That we know of.”
“Not helpful.”
“Eva.” He cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “You’ve been preparing for this for weeks. You know every inch of this property, every detail of every experience. Your sisters are going to love it. And if anything goes wrong, you’ll handle it, because that’s what you do.”
“When did you become the optimistic one?”
“Somewhere around the third time you made me leave the house for a social event. It’s a disease. I caught it from you.”
