Fuck.
Careful as hell, I grab it, my fingers trailing the warm, smooth skin of her inner leg, and it’s a kind of slow torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I keep my jaw locked, eyes averted, pretending this isn’t the closest I’ve been to her in a decade.
She watches me the whole time. Not speaking. Just…watching.
I get both boots off quickly and drop them at the foot of the bed like they burned me.
I straighten up, running a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself. “If you need anything, I’m just across the hall,” I say, jerking my thumb toward the door.
Penny sits up slowly, her hair messy and falling in waves around her heart-shaped face. She looks like a fever dream in this light—drunk and heartbreakingly real.
“Wait.”
I freeze mid-step.
She blinks heavily then whispers, “Stay. Please.”
I close my eyes. Her voice—raspy, quiet,needingme—wrecks whatever composure I was hanging on to. I turn to face her, against my better judgment. The room has gone still, and I have to remember to breathe.
“Penny,” I reply, almost a warning.
She shakes her head as she flops to one side and clumsily pats the empty space on the bed next to her. “I don’t want to be alone tonight, Jesse,” she says, softer now. “Please.”
I haven’t heard my name sound like this on her lips for a long time. Not bitter. Not sharp. Just bare.
I should say no. Ishould.
But how many times have I thought about crawling into bed next to her? So I stay, because I can’t say no. Not to Penny.
“Okay.” I move slowly to the bed where her arm stays outstretched in welcome. “I’ll lie here.”
Just for tonight.
And only because she asked nicely.
Even if it tears me apart.
I kick off my own black boots with a grunt, then strip down to my boxers—I am not getting on the bed in my full clothes. But I’m also not about to ask Penny if she needs to change. That’s a boundary I will not cross tonight.
Penny shifts toward me as I lie down next to her on the pink floral quilt, her body curling on her side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I reach over her for the lamp and pull the cord, and for a second, the room is swallowed in stillness. My heart starts to settle.
And then, in the dark, her voice slips out soft and sleepy.“Do you remember our bench, Jesse?”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch. My lungs forget how to function, and a lump lodges hard in my throat.
Of course, I remember. God, I remembereverything.
But before I can force a single word out, she murmurs, drifting into sleep, “Our initials are still carved in it.”
Silence again.
Except now it’s louder than before, echoing with memories I haven’t let myself feel in years.
I lie there frozen, staring at the ceiling in darkness, blinking back something I won’t name. She’s asleep within seconds, peaceful, completely unaware that she just cracked me wide open.
I stay awake for another hour, maybe more, wondering how the hell I got here.
