Page 63 of The Run Back Home

It sparks something unexpected.

Not nostalgia. Not guilt or regret like I sometimes feel around him. But something closer to determination. Like hearing him call me anything but Lenny—even jokingly—is a loss I'm not willing to take.

"Give me your phone," I say without thinking.

"What?" he laughs.

"No, you're right." I extend my hand, palm up. "If you need anything else, you can call me."

His eyes flick around, confused and curious. "I was kidding. It's fine."

"Nope." I shake my head and reach for the phone sitting on the counter. "We're both adults now, Jace."

"Lenny—"

Too late.

He pauses when my fingers curl around it, and I lift a brow asking for permission.

He clenches his jaw but tips his chin up.

I tap the screen, and when it asks for the passcode, I hold it out to him.

He types in the four digits, then turns my wrist back toward me. His hand wrapped around mine almost makes me forget what I was doing.

When I remember, I start typing in my number—area code first—and when I get to the last four digits, that's when I see it.

"Oh," I say without meaning to.

I read it again.

Name. Number.

Name. Number.

Just to make sure I'm seeing it right.

And I definitely am.

"It's…" I glance up from the screen to find Jace staring, waiting. "Already saved."

He drags his bottom lip between his teeth, and the combination of that and what I've just discovered has me tightening my thighs.

"Yeah," he says. "It is."

I hesitate briefly then tap the screen again. "Well, good," I say, grateful for the task that helps hide my reaction.

I slide the phone back to him just as mine buzzes in my purse.

"And now I have yours."

It's been a few days since I was at Jace's place. A few days since I creepily bought him groceries, walked him through a sleep routine that felt more like foreplay, and nearly threw myself at him for saving my number. And too many times in that span, I've thought, Now is the perfect time to text him.

But I never did.

Either I was too busy with a patient, too caught up in my own head, or too scared because… well, he could text me too.

And now I'm stuck wondering if maybe it's too late. If the window for appropriate phone number usage has already closed, and once again, I let him slip away because I overthought everything.