“As long as they’re safe.”
The words settle deeper than everything else. Because that’s him. That’s where he is. Still. Always.
I swallow slightly, my hand drifting instinctively toward my stomach.
“They will be,” I say quietly.
His gaze flicks to me. There’s something in it. Something that softens, not all the way, but enough.
Jackson clears his throat lightly, like he’s pulling the mood back.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ve got options now.”
Zach’s fingers return to my hair, slower, more deliberate.
“Plenty of time to decide.”
I settle deeper into the couch, my body loose, warm, relaxed in a way I haven’t felt in what feels like forever.
Jackson’s hands shift. Subtly. Moving from my feet to my ankles, his grip still firm, still steady, but different now.
Slower.
More intentional.
His thumbs drag up over my calves, pressing into the muscle there. My breath shifts slightly. Just a little. Zach notices.
Of course he does.
His fingers tighten slightly in my hair before giving a slow, grounding pull.
A soft sound slips out of me before I can stop it. Jackson’s hands move higher. Over my knees. Then my thighs. My body reacts instantly. A small shift. A tightening. A warmth curling low in my stomach.
He glances up at me.
That look in his eyes, aware. Knowing.
“You okay there, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.
I swallow.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
Zach’s thumb presses into the back of my neck, slow, deliberate.
“You don’t sound okay,” he says softly.
Jackson’s fingers press into the inside of my thigh now, just enough to make my breath hitch.
“Getting a little restless?” he adds.
I shift again, unable to stop it this time. My body is already answering for me. Zach’s voice drops lower.
“Do you need something, baby?”
There’s no teasing in it now.
Just understanding.
