When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing unsteadily. Calloway’s eyes were wide, almost shocked, but there was something else there too—a light I hadn’t seen before, like embers catching flame.
“I…” He stopped, swallowed. It seemed to me that for once, the words weren’t stuck. He simply didn’t have words for this moment. I felt the same.
“Yeah,” I agreed, thumb stroking along his jaw. “Me too.”
He laughed, shaky but genuine. “I haven’t… God, Fraser, I haven’t k-kissed anyone in s-seven years.”
“How was it?” I tried for lightness, despite how my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.
“Terrifying. P-perfect.”
I pressed my forehead to his, breathing him in. “We don’t have to do anything else. This doesn’t have to be…”
“I know.” He pulled back enough to meet my eyes. “But I w-want… I n-n-need…” The words tangled and frustration flashed across his face.
“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no rush.”
He shook his head, determined now. “No, I need to say this.” A deep breath. “I’ve been f-fighting against you since you caught me in that parking lot. Every day, every c-coffee, every story you tell, m-makes it w-w-worse. And I’m t-terrified because I know what it’s like to lose someone, but I’m m-more terrified of l-letting fear make all my choices.”
“Calloway…”
“I’m not ready for everything. I might n-never be ready for everything. But I w-want to try. With you. If you… If that’s s-something you want too.”
I kissed him again, pouring everything I couldn’t say into the contact. When we broke apart, I made sure he could see my face clearly in the TV’s dim light. “I want whatever you’re willing togive. Nothing you’re not ready for. We write our own rules here, okay? No expectations except honesty.”
He nodded, looking young and scared and brave all at once. “Day by d-day?”
“Day by day.”
We settled back against the couch, Calloway tucked against my side, my arm around him. The house was quiet except for our breathing slowly syncing. Outside, I could hear the evening birds singing a song of relief now that the storm had passed, the occasional car passing by, the last chainsaw dying down. Normal sounds of life continued while inside this small house, something fundamental had shifted.
“Stay? N-not for anything more. Just…st-stay?”
“As long as you want me to.”
He huffed a soft laugh against my shoulder. “That might be a d-dangerous offer.”
“I’m known for those,” I said, thinking of all the times I’d volunteered for the most dangerous assignments, thrown myself into situations any sensible person would run from. But this—holding Calloway while he rebuilt himself to be brave enough to try again—this felt like the most important risk I’d ever taken.
We must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, Calloway was shifting against me, making soft sounds of protest, probably at the crick in his neck from his weird position.
“Bed?” I suggested. My own body was making its opinion known as well.
He nodded sleepily, and we made our way upstairs, movements slow and careful like we were both afraid of breaking whatever spell had been cast. We didn’t brush our teeth, didn’t undress. This time, when we climbed into bed, there was no careful distance. Calloway curled into me immediately, seeking warmth and comfort like it was his right. How I wanted it to be.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
“What for?”
“B-being patient. Being you. B-being here.”
I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in his scent. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
And it was true. For someone who’d spent thirty years chasing adrenaline across burning mountains, this quiet moment felt like the greatest adventure of all. Here in the darkness, holding someone who was choosing to be brave despite having every reason not to be was worth more than any commendation or medal I’d ever earned.
Sleep came easier this time, without the storm or panic attacks to navigate. Just two people learning to fit together, finding comfort in shared warmth and synchronized breathing. The morning would bring questions and decisions, and the reality of a small town where nothing stayed secret for long. Christ, news traveled faster in this town than a crown fire in August. By tomorrow, half of Forestville would know exactly what time I left his place.
But for now, there was this: Calloway’s trust, freely given despite the cost. The steady beat of his heart against my chest. The promise implicit in the way he held on, even in sleep. Not desperate anymore, but choosing.
