Sloane touched her cheek. “Hi. Want to sleep a little more or grab some food? Your choice.”
Reese’s eyes lit up. “Can we have bread?”
Sloane laughed quietly. “Baby. We can have anything you want. There’s a bakery on the corner. I can grab some croissants and bring them up. How would that be? That way, you can take your time. Wake up slowly.”
“I love it when you wake up and get us baked goods.” Reese grinned fully and sleepily, which meant Sloane had to kiss the full and adorable lips.
“Stop being cute.”
“Can’t.”
“Good.” Sloane found her smile. She slipped out of bed carefully, easing Reese’s arm back into the warmth of the sheets, and dressed quietly. “Be back in a few minutes.”
“Can we have really good morning sex when you do?”
She turned back around. “Wow. Breadandsex? Hmmm. Tall order, but I bet we could work something out.”
Reese closed her eyes, already drifting off again. “I love you,” she murmured.
“I love you, too, Reese.”
Even in the midst of that warmth, that ever-present connection between them, there was a heaviness hanging on from the day before, a tax still owed. Sloane felt it weighing heavily on her shoulders.
The hallway outside their room was hushed, that peculiar hotel-morning stillness where even footsteps seemed toapologize for existing. She took the stairs down instead of the elevator, needing the movement, the brief anonymity of being just another person heading out for breakfast.
The bakery was exactly what she’d hoped for—small, unassuming, tucked into the corner like it hoped to be discovered rather than advertised. The door chimed softly when she stepped inside, and the scent hit her all at once.Amazing. Butter. Yeast. Sugar caramelizing just enough at the edges. It wrapped around her chest and loosened something tight.
Sloane breathed it in, slow and deep, like it might actually fix things.
A glass case displayed neat rows of croissants, their layers visible even before they were cut, golden and impossibly flaky. There were loaves cooling on racks along the wall, crackling faintly as they settled, and a woman behind the counter humming to herself while she worked. No screens. No urgency. Just bread and time and the gentle certainty that this place would exist whether the world was racing or not.
She ordered more than necessary because it somehow felt like medicine—four plain croissants, one almond, because Reese would pretend she didn’t want it and then absolutely steal half, and a small loaf she didn’t recognize but trusted anyway. The paper bag was warm when she took it, comforting in a way that felt almost indecent given how knotted her thoughts had been since yesterday.
For a few minutes, standing there with the bag cradled against her chest, Sloane started to believe this could be enough. That maybe life was allowed to be this simple sometimes. Bread. A quiet morning. The woman she loved resting upstairs, hair tangled, smiling as she waited for Sloane to return. Maybe that’s how they did this thing. One step at a time.
By the time she pushed back into the hotel, she felt steadier. Not wholly fixed. But steadier.
The room was no longer soft with sleep when she let herself in. Reese stood near the bathroom mirror, hair dryer humming in her hand with more intention than a lazy morning warranted. She was dressed in jeans, her team hoodie, and her sneakers laced. Focused. Dialed in.
Sloane paused just inside the doorway, the bakery bag rustling softly in her grip.
“Well,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. “Someone looks like she’s about to be late for her own life.”
Reese turned off the hair dryer and met her gaze in the mirror before turning fully around. There was an apology in her eyes before she even spoke.
“Hey,” Reese said. “God, that smells incredible.”
“Bread oasis,” Sloane said. “You should see this little place. I was hoping we could?—”
“I know.” Reese crossed the room and kissed her quickly, warmly, but with momentum still pulling her forward. “I wanted that too. I really did.”
Sloane’s stomach sank, just a little.
“What’s up?”
Reese exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Shanelle texted while you were gone. She wants to see me. Now-ish. Go over a few things from yesterday.” She hesitated, then added, “I told her we were having a morning, and she told me to bring you along.”
“Oh. Well, that was nice of her.” Sloane tightened her fingers around the paper bag, the warmth seeping into her palms.
