Chapter 277
She’s fast asleep.
Her breaths come soft and even, mouth parted slightly, lashes brushing her cheeks like
tiny shadows. Her head rests just beneath my chin, the crown of it tucked against my
chest like it belongs there. And I haven’t stopped playing with her hair.
I told her it would help her sleep. I didn’t lie.
But I didn’t say it would help me, too.
My fingers comb through the strands, slow and gentle, undoing the last few kinks from
where her braid held tight all day. I trace them lightly, like the rhythm will imprint her
into me. Like if I memorize every line of her hair, I won’t forget this. Her, here. Her
trusting me.
Even now, hours later, I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
I’m not dumb.
I know Asher trusts me-with her safety, with her body if it came to that, with her life, if
needed. But I also know he doesn’t necessarily trust me not to fall for her.
And he’s not wrong.
I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to. But it’s impossible to be this close to someone like
Penny and not feel it slowly bleed into your bones. Like sun through a window you
thought was closed. Like something warm and golden seeping into you, day after day.
The way she looks at you when you say something funny, and she forgets to hold back her
laugh. The way she tears up at kindness. The way she says thank you and means it like
you saved her world just by existing in it. 1
She’s everything.
Even now-especially now.
Her face is soft in sleep, no tension in her brow, no storm in her eyes. Just that gentle rise
and fall of her chest against me, her cheeks still flushed from the heat of the room, belly
rounded from all the food I fed her earlier tonight, hair tangled in my hands.
She looks real.
Not like a fantasy. Not like a distant star.
Like a girl I could love. Like a girl I already like so much.
I shift slightly, careful not to wake her, and let myself look. Just look. Her profile is sweet
and soft, lips parted in sleep, brow peaceful. She murmurs something under her breath-
nothing I can make out-but I can feel the trust in her body as she shifts slightly closer.
Like I’m safety.
She trusts me.
That thought twists something deep in my chest.
Because what happens when she doesn’t need me to be that anymore?
I feel it-the ache in my throat, the burn behind my eyes. I blink it away.
I know this isn’t mine. None of this is. It never was.
But it felt like it could’ve been. If the universe tilted just a little differently. If Asher hadn’t come first. If she hadn’t already fallen for him so completely that her whole world
bent in his direction.
God, the way she loves him-it’s in everything she does.
hing she
It’s in the way she still checks her phone after every rehearsal. The way her face crumples when his name doesn’t light up her screen. The way she talks about him even when she’s
trying not to. Like he’s a gravity she can’t escape.
And who could blame her?
Asher’s a force. The kind of man who walks into a room and makes everyone sit up straighter. The kind of man who doesn’t have to say much to be heard. Who would burn
the world down if you hurt someone he loves.
And I love him like a brother. I owe him everything.
But right now? I hate him a little, too.
Because he got there first. Because she chose him. Because he left, and I was the one who
got to see what she looks like when she breaks, and I hate him for that too. For making
her cry. For making her hurt.
Even though I know he did it to protect her.
I glance down at her again.
She’s beautiful like this.
Not in the loud, center-of-the-room way. But in the quiet, ruin-you-forever kind of way.
The kind that sneaks up on you, stays in your lungs, in your pulse, until you realize she’s
inside every breath you take.
God, I could fall for her.
Hell, I think I already am.
If she stayed here a little too long, if she laughed at too many of my dumb jokes, if she let
me do this-just this, play with her hair in the dark, make her tea in the morning, look at
me like I’m safe-for a few more days…
I’d never be able to stop.
I brush a strand off her cheek, my fingers aching with the urge to touch her skin. To trace
the lines of her jaw, the curve of her cheekbone, the bow of her lips.
But I don’t.
Because I’m not allowed to.
Instead, I let my hand drift back to her hair, trailing soft strokes through it like she’ll
disappear if I don’t. Like I can somehow keep her here just a little longer.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
I flinch, curse under my breath, and grab it quick before it wakes her.
It’s a text.
ASHER:
took care of it. I want to see her tomorrow.
I stare at it for a long moment.
Then I sigh. Loud. Heavy.
There it is.
The end of this little dream I’ve been living.
The end of pretending she’s just… here, with me. Like she might stay. Like she might
choose this.
I want to be relieved.
And I am.
I’m relieved she’s safe. That the vultures are handled, that Asher came out the other side
of whatever storm he just walked through. That she won’t have to look over her shoulder
anymore. That she can breathe again.
But I’m also wrecked.
Because now it’s over.
The quiet nights. The shared jokes. Her dancing around the kitchen while I made her
breakfast. The way she falls asleep with her legs curled toward me. The sound of her
laugh echoing in my apartment like it belongs here.
I text him back.
BOOMER:
okay. i’ll bring her to your place in the morning.
His reply comes fast.
ASHER:
thank you.
I don’t answer.
I toss the phone to the side and shift down in the bed, just a little closer. Not enough to
wake her. Not enough to cross a line.
But enough.
Enough to memorize this.
υπαρισι αι
I tuck an arm around her waist, feel the heat of her back against my chest, the soft weight
of her hair slipping over my arm. My nose rests in her hairline for just a second.
One second.
That’s all I get.
This is the last time I’ll hold her like this.
love the story! but I still hope she forgives Asher and does not fall for Boomer… 😉
