“I should let you get some rest,” I said. I scooted off the edge of the mattress but stopped when his fingers hooked through the belt loops of my pants.
“Don’t—stay, please.”
And there went all my willpower, right out the damn window. I was weightless, hovering as I followed the pull of Trey’s fingers back onto the bed, deeper into his space.
I really was a weak, weak woman.
Before I knew it, I was lying next to him, sinking into him. His arm wrapped around my back, and my cheek pressed into the skin of his chest.
He was so warm, and not because of the fever. Trey always radiated a heat that I wanted to bathe in. Just a moment, I could bask in this feeling of him for just a few more moments.
His hand on my back floated up into my hair. Hisfingers combed through the ends of my curls, down the line of my spine. A riot of goosebumps erupted along my skin with the delicate touches of his firm hands.
“Maybelle.” His whispered prayer of my name smelled sweet, minty.
My eyes were growing heavy as I answered, “Yes, Trey?”
His hand continued to toy with the ends of my hair as he inhaled deeply. “Have you gotten to the part in your journal where you talk about what your perfect day would look like?”
I smiled, letting my hand draw patterns across his chest. “My perfect day would be a day in the sun with you by my side. I don’t care what we are doing, where we are. As long as the sunshine is on my face, and you are holding my hand,” I recited from my recent memory of the passage.
He sniffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
He took one curl, winding it around a finger as he pressed his cheek and chin into the top of my head. “You know, you actually sound in love when you write to him,” he noted, his words breathing through the golden frizz on the top of my head. “Do you think it’s possible that you really fell in love with someone you’ve never met?”
I only needed to ponder his words for a breath before I nodded against his chest. “Yes.”
I could believe it was possible to fall in love with someone I’d never met, because—if I was being honest with myself—I was falling for someone I couldn’t remember.
The hand in my hair fell still against my back again, then cinched me up into him. “May, can you stay with me, please?”
“I am.”
His head rolled side to side. “No, I mean—staywith me, for the night.”
I lifted my head then to find viridescent eyes. He had removed the wet cloth. I couldn’t differentiate betweenmy scalding skin and what could’ve been his fever. He needed a hospital if that heat was his fever.
“For the night?” I asked, breathless.
Trey’s hand came up, cupping my cheek.
“Or however long you’ll give me, but if you’re going to stay—let me pretend you chose me. Pretend that last night didn’t happen. Let me hold you and pretend that I never have to let you go. Pretend with me that nothing and no one else exists. Let me pretend you choose this: us. You can go back to reality tomorrow, May, but please, stay with me. Let me hold you and let me pretend you’re mine.”
My heart tripped, skipped, and ripped through its cage, desperately reaching out to him.
“Please,” he mouthed, and I knew he would not ask again. It wasn’t a choice; I already knew my answer.
I slid up, closer. We were sharing the same air, giving, and breathing each other’s inhales and exhales.
I could do this, give him this.
Give us this. Let it just be us.
Resume reality—tomorrow.
I leaned into the hand, caressing my cheek. The moments were eternities dragging on and the hope that gleamed in his gaze melted away.
“I’m yours.”
