I don’t know what to say to that. Luke might be my best friend, but there were some things we didn’t talk about much. His kid had always been one of those things.
I know it’s not my place to push, and I’m not one to usually give a damn about details.Especially when it comes to personal shit that’s not my business, but something makes me ask, “So, why now?”
Her voice is sleepy when she answers. “It felt like time.”
A moment later, her head tips against my shoulder, resting on me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I stiffen momentarily before relaxing into it. I feel the exact moment she gives in to sleep, her weight settling into me, warm and trusting.
I don’t move right away, giving her a chance to fall deeper into her slumber. Her breathing evens out, slow and steady, and I just sit, watching the fire, listening to her soft sounds of sleep, trying not to feel like if I move, I’ll be crossing some sort of invisible line.
Eventually, I shift to the side and scoop her up.
She moans a little with the movement and murmurs something unintelligible.
This is the second time I’ve held her in my arms in less than twenty-four hours. If I’m not careful, I could get way too used to it.
I carry her through the cabin to my room and lay her gently on my bed, pulling the covers over her.
She immediately turns and snuggles into the pillows with a soft groan.
She looks good in my bed.
Too good.
Like she’s at home there.
I step back before I do something stupid, like sliding in next to her. My jaw tightens as I turn and shut the door with a soft click behind me.
This was supposed to be simple.
I’m supposed to be keeping her safe.
But nothing about having Tessa in my bed feels safe.
Chapter Four
Tessa
Iwake slowly. Not with the jolt of panic and my alarm blaring, the way I’ve grown used to over the last few years of being a student, thinking I overslept.
I take a moment to revel in that thought. There’s nowhere I need to be today. No class that I’m running late for. No exam I need to study for.
The only place I need to be is here in this moment.
In this extremely comfortable, warm bed.
Holt’s bed.
It takes a second for that to hit me.
I’m in my dad’s best friend’s bed.
My eyes snap open. I’m wide awake now.
Rain is still pounding on the metal roof, only it’s faded to a soft thrumming now. Either that or I’ve already grown used to it. Either way, the wild wind from the night before that sent a tree branch crashing down on the roof seems to have settled, too.
I sit up, the heavy quilt slipping down to my lap as the memories of the night before come rushing back: the storm, the crash on the roof, the couch in front of the fire, Holt, his shoulder strong and comforting beneath my cheek.
The last thing I remember was sitting next to him and feeling safe and warm right before I fell asleep.
