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Dad watches me push my chair back, his hand slipping from mine as I stand. For one horrible second, I expect him to remind me we’re still in the middle of our own conversation, but he only leans back and looks up at me.

“Okay?”

“What do you want me to do, Bug? Ground you?”

A startled laugh slips out, and Dad’s mouth pulls into the smallest smile.

“I think I’m a little old for that.”

“You were a pain in the ass to ground when you were sixteen. I’m definitely not trying it now.”

I bend and wrap my arms around Dad, and his arms come around me before I’ve settled against him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bug.” His hand presses firmly against my back before he lets me go.

I’m already out the door and in my car before I remember I’m still in my pajamas, but turning around never crosses my mind. I need to see Jubal, and twenty minutes suddenly feels like an impossible amount of time to wait when my chest is so full I can barely pull in a complete breath. Dad’s words keep coming back no matter how hard I try to think about what I’m going to say when I get there.

My eyes burn as I tighten my hands around the steering wheel, wanting those twenty minutes gone, wanting the distance between us gone, wanting him close enough that I can stop trying to have this conversation with an empty passenger seat. I owe him an apology that doesn’t ask him to make what happened easier for me, but I still don’t know how to put everything I need to say into words. Every beginning I reach for gets me only so far before everything I planned to say falls apart again.

Jubal’s truck is in its usual spot when I pull into the lot, and the breath I’ve been holding leaves me as I park beside it. He’s here, somewhere above me, and I’m out of the car almost as soon as I turn it off. My heart climbs higher into my throat with every step down the hallway, while every version of the conversation I tried to prepare in the car falls apart faster than I can put it back together.

When I stop outside his door and pull out my keys, Jubal’s slips easily between my fingers, but the familiar motion stalls before the key reaches the lock. My chest aches as I stare at the door, suddenly terrified of what I’ll see on his face when there’s nothing left between us to hide behind. The metal digs into my palm when I close my hand around it and knock instead. His footsteps answer almost immediately, growing louder until they stop on the other side of the door. The lock turns, and when Jubal opens the door, the sight of him steals whatever breath I had left.

His gaze catches mine, surprise widening his eyes before something more careful moves across his face. “Pea?”

“I love you.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Jubal

Ican’t do anything but look at Calliope ‌standing on the other side of my door in plaid pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, and her keys are clenched so tightly in one hand that the metal teeth have to be digging into her palm. But it’s her eyes that keep me from moving. She’s watching me with all the certainty she just put into three words, and there’s nothing in her face that asks me to make them easier for her.

I’ve seen Calliope scared enough to know what it looks like when she’s already three steps ahead of herself, trying to predict every possible consequence before it reaches her. She drove here in her pajamas, knocked on my door, and gave me the one thing I wanted badly enough that I refused to ask her for it.

“You love me?”

Her mouth trembles before she presses her lips together. “I probably could’ve led with hello.”

I reach for her, my hand sliding around the back of her neck as I pull her across the threshold. Calliope comes straight into me, wrapping both arms around my waist, and the force of having her against me sends my next breath into her hair. I tighten my arms around her until there’s nowhere left for the ache of the last two days to sit between us. Her cheek presses into my chest as her hand moves slowly up my back. I close my eyes and press my mouth to the top of her head as the emptiness I woke up with this morning finally eases.

I should say something. She just showed up at my door and handed me the words I’ve wanted from her without ever letting myself ask for them, but every response that makes it to my tongue feels too small. Calliope shifts enough to look up at me, and the uncertainty that finally slips into her expression gets me moving. I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb under her eye as I hold her gaze.

“I love you too.”

I’ve carried these words around for so long that saying them should feel bigger somehow, but with Calliope looking at me, all I want is to give them to her again.

“I love you, Pea.”

Calliope grips the front of my shirt as a tear slips over her lashes, and I catch it with my thumb before it reaches her cheek. She leans into my hand instead of looking away, her lips trembling into the smallest smile, and fuck, I could stay right here with her forever.

She turns her face enough to press her lips against the center of my palm, and it tears straight through whatever control I had left. I’ve kissed this woman until neither of us could breathe. I’ve had her wrapped around me, whispering my name, while I forgot every damn thing except how good it felt to give her exactly what she needed. But this—her standing in front of me in those ridiculous pajama pants, tears still caught in her lashes after showing up here just to tell me she loves me—gets me in a place none of that ever has.

I curl my fingers around her jaw and pull her mouth to mine. The second our lips meet, Calliope grabs my shirt with both hands, and the last few days crash into the relief of finally having her against me again. A broken moan slips from her lips when I kiss her deeper, asking for more without giving me a chance to catch my breath. I slide my hand beneath the back of her shirt, following the familiar curve of her waist as she shivers beneath my palm. When she finally tears her mouth from mine, I’m already chasing her, catching her bottom lip in one more kiss before she can get far.

“Jubal,” she whispers as my forehead drops to hers.

I’m trying to catch my breath, but she’s still tucked against me like she has no intention of giving either of us enough room to think. Thinking is what I’ve been doing since Thursday. About what I’d say when I saw her again and whether giving her the space she asked for meant waiting until she decided she was ready to come back. My eyes close as her fingers slide from my shirt to the back of my neck.