He doesn’t say,Are you okay?
He doesn’t say,I remembered.
He doesn’t give it more attention.
He just shifts his weight like he’s ready to leave if I need him to.
I swallow and step back. “Come in.”
His eyebrows lift like he didn’t expect the invitation. Then he walks in like he’s careful with his feet, like my small dorm room is a sacred space and not a beige box with a twin bed and a desk that wobbles if you breathe too hard. He sets the coffees down on my desk and places the muffin beside them. Then he stands there for a beat like he doesn’t know where to put his hands.
It’s ridiculous how attractive that is.
The fact that he can be confident on ice and still look slightly uncertain in my room, like he’s afraid to take up the wrong kind of space.
I close the door and lean back against it for half a second, grounding myself. Grayson turns his head, watching me without staring. His eyes feel like a hand at my back. Not pushing. Just present.
“You have a lab today, right?” he asks, like he’s reminding me we live in reality.
“Unfortunately,” I mutter.
His mouth quirks. “Hopefully it goes by quickly.”
I glance at the coffees. “Which one is mine?”
He points. “Vanilla.”
I narrow my eyes. “You remembered?”
“I listened,” he corrects.
I pick up the coffee cup and hold it like it’s warmth that I’m allowed to keep. Then I look at the muffin again. I hate that my brain still does inventory at times.
But today is my twenty-first birthday. I refuse to let anything from my past have any hold over my future.
I slowly take a breath. In through my nose, out through my mouth.
Grayson doesn’t move. Doesn’t watch my hands. Doesn’t look at my mouth like he’s counting bites. He turns slightly, gaze flicking toward my window like he’s giving me privacy to make my own choice.
Which somehow makes the choice easier. I open the bag and take a bite.
Blueberry has always been my favorite. Soft, sweet, and still slightly warm, with the perfect amount of crumble on top.
Grayson turns back slowly, eyes on my face instead of the muffin.
“How is it?” he asks.
I swallow, using my free hand to cover my mouth. “So good.”
His gaze warms as he smiles. “I’m glad.”
There’s a beat where the air between us feels thick with things we don’t name.
My birthday, yes, but also his brother’s.
The fact that we share a date like the universe tried to stitch us together without asking permission. Grayson clears his throat, like he can feel the weight too.
“I can walk you,” he says. “If you want.”
