Page 61 of Suddenly Yours

Goodbyes were said and promises made about doing it again soon, and then Missy and I walked toward my truck. She slid into the passenger seat as I held open her door.

“I could fall asleep right now,” she sighed.

I smiled as I started the engine. “Don’t. I’m not carrying you inside. My hero routine is on cooldown right now. I’m just as tired as you are.”

She laughed, tipping her head back against the seat. “I thought you liked carrying me around.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was pretty sure I could muster up enough strength to cart her inside if I had to.

We drove through town with the windows cracked. I turned onto the familiar road toward my place, then glanced over at her.

“I’ll need to stop by my place first,” she said, like she’d read my mind. “Just to grab a few things.”

“Sure,” I said easily. Before I could overthink it, the words were already there, pushing at my chest. “Or… you could just bring everything.”

She turned to look at me fully now. “Everything?”

I kept my eyes on the road, suddenly very aware of how loud my heartbeat sounded in my ears. “You’re at my place more than your own. You’ve got half your stuff there already. You basically live at my place anyway. You stay there every night. Your shampoo’s taken over my shower shelf. Your books are on my nightstand. I keep finding hair clips in places that don’t make sense.” I shrugged, trying for casual and probably failing. “And I like waking up with you. I like being home with you.”

Silence stretched between us, not awkward, not heavy. Just… quiet.

“I’m not saying you have to decide anything this second,” I added quickly, glancing at the road ahead.

She didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she reached over and rested her hand on my forearm, her thumb brushing lightly against my skin.

“Okay,” she said softly, “let me think about it. I’m too tired right now to decide anything.”

That one word, okay, settled something deep in my chest. I pulled up in front of her building a minute later and cut the engine.

“I’ll be quick,” she said, already opening the door.

I watched her walk up the back stairs at Holley Hall, the last of the afternoon light catching in her hair, and realized I wasn’t imagining a future anymore.

I was asking for one.

I waited in the truck while she ran up the exterior stairs, watching her disappear inside. I told myself not to overthink it.

I failed.

By the time she came back down with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder and another tucked under her arm. I wondered how much stuff was left in her place anyway. She couldn’t have much more. Right?

She opened the passenger door and paused when she caught my expression. “What?” she asked, smiling like she already knew I was about to tease her.

“Nothing,” I said, keeping my voice light, even though my pulse had kicked up.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes toward me. “Cade?” My name was a warning that made me chuckle.

“I was just asking myself how much stuff you had left, then I realized that it was you. You had two bedrooms when you were a kid that you filled up with stuff.”

“I used one as a study room,” she pointed out. “Besides, we had six other empty bedrooms in that house.” She shrugged. “It only seemed fitting that I use two.”

I laughed.

Back at my place, the house greeted us, solid, warm, and familiar. The porch light showcased the newly painted front door that creaked in that comforting way that somehow meant home.

Inside, I set her bags down near the base of the stairs.

“How about I heat up some leftover spaghetti from last night?” I suggested, toeing off my shoes. “I’ve got a loaf of garlic bread I can throw in the oven too.”