Forever.
“Camila,” I whisper, searching her eyes, “crossing this line will change everything between us.”
She steps toward me, her fingers sliding through my hair. “I know.”
“Are you sure you want this? Sure you’re ready?”
She nods then places a soft kiss on my lips.
It’s like her mind prevents her from sayingI love youwith words, but her heart is willing to show me another way.
And that’s all I need.
Camila
Sunlight spills across the room, waking me. My first thought goes to Hess and last night, and how he’s right here beside me in my bed. We’re not tangled together like something out of a romance movie, just lying next to each other, close enough that I can hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Somehow, I like this better. The normalcy of it. The mundane action of waking up next to the person you share everything with.
I don’t regret it. Any of it.
There’s comfort in knowing I have someone here, a built-in partner and friend who also happens to be the man I can kiss whenever I want. The man I can share the most vulnerable parts of myself with.
I’ve never had that before.
Not like this.
And I’m surprised by how much I like it.
Six years ago, when we first met at the Waffle House, I was guarded. Barbed wire wrapped tightly around every part of me. Even six months ago, the walls fortifying my heart were so high and thick that a man’s love had nowhere to land. I couldn’t feel it, couldn’t receive it, and certainly couldn’t return it. But then Hess came along, patient enough to chip away, one brick at a time, until somehow, he left me standing here with my heart wide open to feel love.
Love.
That elusive feeling I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to prove doesn’t exist.
But now I know it does.
Hesslovesme.
My eyes drift over his face. The faint stubble on his jaw. The curve of his lips. The way he somehow looks softer, almost boyish, in sleep. I have the sudden urge to touch him, to push back the lock of hair that’s fallen across his forehead. So I do. My fingers graze lightly, and he stirs.
One eye cracks open then shuts again. His voice is rough with sleep when he murmurs, “You’re watching me sleep.” He shifts closer, draping an arm across my body, pulling me against him.
“Yes,” I say, smiling.
There’s a subtle headshake. “Why?”
“I was just thinking.”
“Uh-oh. Thinking?” His eyes peel open, a teasing glint behind his gaze. “In a good way or a bad way?”
“A good way.”
“Phew.” His lips tilt into the faintest smile, eyes closing again. “For a second there, I thought you were going to kick me out of your bed.”
“It’s actually your bed.”
A quick smile covers his lips. “It’sourbed.”
Our bed?My heart races with fear—old habits die hard—but before I can sit in that feeling, Hess pulls my body to his. I snuggle against him, resting my head on his chest. His warmth surrounds me, and I let myself breathe it in, steady and sure.
