Like a cradle.
We crawled into the berth under the thick blankets, still a little damp, still smelling like salt and soap and each other.
She curled into me without asking.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Head on my chest.
Hand flat over my heart.
My arm wrapped around her waist.
I could feel every inch of her through that old flannel.
Warm.
Real.
Alive.
She kissed my neck absentmindedly.
Slow.
Lazy.
Not trying to start anything.
Just… there.
My fingers traced her back.
Up and down.
Up and down.
The boat creaked.
Water tapped the hull.
City noise miles away.
“We’re safe out here,” I murmured into her hair. “No one’s gonna bother us. It’s just us.”
She exhaled soft.
“This is perfect.”
God.
The way she said it.
Like she meant it.
Like she wasn’t chasing the next thing.
Like this — right now — was enough.
