Page 20 of Now and Then

Half-written notes about the Magnolia Road tip sit beside my coffee. I should be pouring over them, but my mind keeps drifting to Sutton instead.

One eye on the case, the other on the redhead.

We’ve spent so many years like this, toeing the line between friends and something more, both of us too scared to push the boundaries. Each day our orbits get closer and closer, until last month, they almost collided.

I rub my hands over my face, smooth my hair behind my ears, and grab my cowboy hat. In the conference room, Chief drones on, the buzz of the heater the perfect white noise for drowning out almost anything. But my mind has other plans. I can’t stop thinking of that Colorado night. Sutton laughing at the show, the way she let herself be . . .

One month ago.

I’ve never seen Sutton so carefree, at least not since we were kids. She and Greer scream, jump, and attempt to sing along to every track the DJ plays at the concert we’re attending in Colorado. She looks over her shoulder at me, a wide smile across her face. Her cheeks are covered in glitter that make her green eyes even brighter. This woman is fucking incredible, and she doesn’t even realize it.

Sutton never takes vacation days, so when she mentioned Luke had planned a surprise trip for Greer that we were all going on, I was 100 percent in.

By the time the show ends, everyone’s exhausted, Greer especially. I couldn’t be happier for Luke, to have found his soulmate and for her to have found her way out of the hell she’s been living in since losing her husband. I’m even more glad Sutton found a best friend, two when Navy entered the mix.

Sutton walks hand in hand with Greer. Is Sutton starting to see she can have everything she’s ever wanted if she just reaches out and takes it?

The drive back to the hotel is quiet. We’ve had a long day with our drive from Suncrest Valley and an exhilarating show, so I know most of us are ready for sleep. Sutton’s head tips over and rests on the window, her mouth open slightly as her eyes flutter shut. This girl could fall asleep anywhere.

Ten minutes later, we pour into the lobby, and Vinnie throws out the idea of going to the bar.

Sutton yawns. “I’m down.”

“Nah, babe,” I say. “You need sleep.” I put my arm around her shoulder and guide her toward the elevator.

“Don’t be a fun ruiner, Hunter,” she says.

“Not trying to be, but I don’t want to have to carry your ass all the way back to our room after you fall asleep at the bar. Like you do every time we go out this late.”

We catch the elevator to our floor, Sutton leaning more and more of her body weight into me. She’s fading fast. I nudge her through the hotel room door, taking her fanny pack off from around her waist.

On these kinds of trips, it’s typical for Sutton and me to share a room. I take the queen bed closest to the door, and she takes the one closest to the window. What isn’t typical about this trip is that this room has only one bed.

Sutton stares at the bed.

I come up behind her and stare at it too. “Everything okay?”

“I was hoping between dropping off our suitcases earlier and now that this bed would’ve turned into two beds.”

“Doesn’t look like it did,” I say.

For the past six years, Sutton’s been living with her mom again. She says it’s because she feels safe there, but I know the truth. She stays there because it’s predictable, an environment she knows and can control to some degree. Over the last several months, Sutton’s been sleeping in my guest room more and more. I love giving her a soft space to land, especially after what she’s been through. But having her in my house is one thing. Having her in my bed is a whole other thing. If she doesn’t make me sleep on the floor, tonight will be a true test of self-control.

Who am I kidding? Every moment I spend with Sutton takes every ounce of self-control I have. If I had it my way, we’d already be married with the white-picket fence and two point five kids.

I’ve just been waiting for her to be ready. But, damn, watching her tonight? And with the possibility of us sharing a bed? Waiting is getting really fucking hard.

“Go wash your face and get ready for bed.” I bend down and slip off her sneakers.

“You’re so bossy.” She stands and rummages through her suitcase, grabbing a nightshirt and stumbling her way to the bathroom. “I think my feet might fall off.”

“I’ll rub them when you’re done.” I untuck my shirt from my jeans, peel it from my body, and toss it over the nearby chair. I toe my boots off and unbutton my jeans when I sense her watching me. This woman thinks she’s so sly, always checking me out as if I don’t feel her looking.

I smile to myself and slide my jeans down my legs, leaving me in black boxer briefs. Her sharp intake of breath tells me she’s still watching. I bend down, nice and slow, pick up my jeans, and throw them over my suitcase.

“You just going to stand there and watch?” I tease, looking over my shoulder at her.

“What if I do?” There’s a challenge in her voice.