I trust you. To keep her safe. To give her a soft place to land. To not drag her into the wreckage.
“She needed somewhere solid after ... everything.” He shrugged, eyes cutting over to me. “And you’re solid.”
I swallowed once, hard, the lie of that scraping all the way down.
I’d kissed his sister in the snow and wanted to do it again so badly my hands shook.
I’d pressed her down into me like she belonged there.
I was currently thinking more about the way she’d whimpered into my mouth than thirty years of friendship.
“Yeah,” I said, voice rough. “I know.”
For a few beats the only sound was the engine and the hiss of tires on packed snow. Hayes settled back in the seat, oblivious, trusting, already scrolling through his phone to text whomever he was late meeting.
I stared straight ahead, jaw tight, a decision slotting into place like a beam locking into a frame.
Whatever this thing was with Clara—whatever it could be—I didn’t get to lean into it. Not with him sitting next to me saying he trusted me. Not with her still getting her feet under her. Not when my own life was one bad day away from unraveling.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice into something that sounded almost normal. “Where to?”
