Page 13 of Now and Then

“Do you think . . .” She yawns deeply and blinks up at me. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest.

Sutton has slept over at my house plenty of times—after late nights out with our friends, after days when the world felt too heavy for her shoulders—but always in her own room. I’ve tried to convince myself that her sleeping under my roof was enough, but every time, I knew I wanted more.

I swallow down my nerves and grip her more firmly.

It takes a bit of finagling to get the front door unlocked and walk her down the hall without banging her head or feet on the walls.

I pause in front of my room. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

She sighs deeply. “I honestly don’t know anymore. I just know I want to be close to you tonight. Is that okay?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Of course it is.”

I sit her on the side of the bed, and her eyes open a fraction, a weary, bone-tired look in them.

“Let’s get these off,” I say, slipping off her high heels.

She removes her jacket and unzips her skirt, wiggling it over her hips and thighs.

“Wait,” I say, stilling her hands. “Let me step out so you can change.”

She narrows her eyes at me as she takes off her blouse. “It’s not like you haven’t already seen me naked.”

My eyes widen at her admission. Is she talking about Colorado? Does she recall every detail of that night just as I do? Our eyes meet, and I turn back the covers on my bed, never taking my eyes from hers.

She unsnaps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. I’m certain I might be having a heart attack. I try like hell to ignore her bare breasts and hold out one of my T-shirts. She snorts and slides her arms in, sporting a wicked little grin when her head pops out the top.

I know part of her brazenness is the tequila. I’m hopeful the other part is something more. A sign that she’s finally ready.

Moonlight streams through the large picture frame window, casting the room in a silver haze. I stand and walk to my side of the bed, stopping to close the curtains.

“Leave ‘em open,” she mumbles, having already tucked herself under the covers.

The pearl snaps on my shirt pop easily, and I toss it over the chair in the corner along with my Wranglers. Sutton doesn’t hide her perusal of my body and pulls back the covers for me to get in. Goosebumps pepper my body, and I’m not sure if it’s from the room temperature or the woman staring at me.

Cool sheets greet me. We’ve only got a few more days before it’ll be time to turn on the heater. Sutton wiggles her way across the middle of the bed and slips her arm over my stomach, laying her head on my chest. She smiles against my skin, and I know she must feel my heart damn near ready to burst out of my chest.

When she’s like this, it’s hard not to let my hope that it’ll finally be the moment she decides to give us a chance run away with me.

“Thank you,” she says.

“For what?”

“For always being there for me.” Her words are barely a whisper, already slipping into the clutches of sleep.

“It’s always been you and me, Sutton. You know this.”

I tuck her in my arm, and tell myself not to kiss her forehead like I’m dying to.

“I know, but what if it all goes wrong?”

Her words are mumbled, and I’m not even sure she’s aware she’s talking. The hand wrapped around my waist comes to rest across my chest and onto my shoulder.

Unable to stop myself, I trail circles over her back, and her head gets heavier and heavier as my mind slows.

We’ve been friends our whole lives and something else entirely for half that time, so I understand why Sutton fears that—things going wrong or falling apart right in front of her eyes—because I’ve witnessed it happen to her a few times.