Page 191 of What We Brave
"Observant." He kisses my forehead and my eyes drift close. I am tired. But nottootired. "Let me take care of you."
I'm still not used to this. The way he asks permission with his hands, checking in with every touch. The way he's learned exactly how I like to be held, how much pressure, where to put his mouth to make me gasp.
He's learnedme. And that's terrifying and wonderful in equal measure.
We fall into bed together, and it's slow this time. Slow and deliberate, Blake's body covering mine, his forehead pressed to my temple as he moves inside me. Nothing like our first frantic times, all that desperate hunger. This is something else. Something that feels like it means more than either of us is saying.
"God, Laine." His voice is rough against my ear. "You feel?—"
He doesn't finish. Just groans and hitches my leg higher, changes the angle in a way that makes me arch off the mattress. He's figured out exactly how to take me apart, and he does it with the same patient attention he gives his restoration work.
Afterward, we're tangled together in his sheets, my head on his chest, his fingers tracing slow patterns on my shoulder. This is my favorite time with him. He puts off his whole day to be here with me. Tucking me in, he calls it. Which often includes falling into an orgasm coma. And he stays, holding me until I drift off.
His room smells like him. Sawdust and soap and something warm underneath all of it. But there's a hint of my shampoo on his pillow too. My stuff has migrated here without me really noticing. A hair tie on his nightstand. My phone charger plugged in by the bed.
"You should sleep," he murmurs.
"I know."
But I don't want to. I want to stay right here, with his heartbeat under my ear and his hand warm on my skin. There's something I should say. Something that's been building for days now, pressing up against me every time he looks at me like I'm something precious.
I love you.
The words are right there, sitting on my tongue like they already know the way out. But they won't move, and I don't know why. I said them to Reid and it felt like breathing. With Blake, it feels like jumping off a cliff.
Maybe because with Reid, it felt inevitable. Like the words were just catching up to what already existed between us. With Blake, it feels like a choice. A declaration. Something that will change things in ways I can't predict.
So why does that scare me more?
"Hey." His hand stills on my shoulder. "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere." I press a kiss to his chest. "Just tired."
He doesn't push. That's one of the things I love about him—God, there's that word again—the way he gives me space to have my own thoughts. He just pulls the covers up over my shoulders and holds me a little tighter.
"Sleep, sweetheart. I'll be in the workshop when you wake up."
I want to tell him. Iwilltell him. Just... not yet.
My eyes drift closed, and I let his heartbeat lull me under.
I wake up alone in Blake's bed, late afternoon light slanting through the blinds.
For a moment, I just lie there, taking stock. His sheets are soft and rumpled around me. The pillow still smells like him. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the faint whine of a power tool from the workshop.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach for it without thinking.
Three texts from Joyce about a schedule change. One from Jamila about yoga tomorrow. And there, in my email, the notification I've been avoiding for a week.
Reminder: Day Shift RN Position - Application deadline in 5 days.
I stare at it for too long.
The night shift is killing me. I know it is. I can feel it in my bones, in the way I'm dragging even on my days off. My body wants sunlight. My joints ache. I need a normal sleep schedule.
But I can't hit apply.
My job is magic. The crew is like family, and the idea of giving up that weird 3 AM camaraderie when we're all punchy and exhausted together, makes me physically sick.
