His brows furrow, the protective edge emerging before he fully wakes. He shifts up to sit behind me, wrapping his arms securely around my waist as his chin rests on my shoulder.
“You’re allowed to be scared,” he mumbles against my shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you don’t do it anyway.”
I lean back into him, letting the worry seep into the warmth of his touch.
His lips trail kisses on the side of my neck next. “I’m right here,” he murmurs. “No matter what happens next.”
And just like that, the fear doesn’t go away… but it feels a lot smaller with him holding me.
I refresh the page once, twice, and three times.
Zero likes. Zero comments. Zero views.
Each zero punches a new hole through my confidence.
I cover my eyes with the heels of my hands, letting out another exhale.
“Hey,” he says, brushing his nose against my shoulder. “That computer’s not gonna bite.”
I huff out a shaky breath, my fingers already poised to refresh again. “I just need to che?—”
“Nope,” he interrupts, as his lips find the spot right beneath my ear. The one that scrambles coherent thought. “You need to breathe.”
His hands slide down my arms as his thumbs trace lazy circles on my wrists. He gently nudges my laptop shut with his knuckle.
I make a weak protest noise, since he’s already kissing my neck, and it’s maddening. “Reed…”
“Mmhmm?” he hums against the crook of my neck. “You know what’ll happen? It’ll do whatever it’s supposed to. With or without you staring at it.”
He turns me in his arms so I face him, my legs still crossed, his knees framing my hips as his palms rest at my waist.
My eyes trail along his clothed chest, the scars trailingup his arms and around his neck, until I meet his gaze, a look of pure devotion in his eyes.
“But what if?—”
He shuts me up with another kiss on my shoulder, one on my collarbone, then my lips.
“You did something brave this morning,” he whispers.
My pulse leaps beneath his lips.
He leans back slightly, giving me that boyish half-smile that always feels like a secret shared just between us.
“You refreshing that page won’t make the world spin any faster,” he says quietly, kissing the underside of my jaw. “But this? I can make this morning a hell of a lot better.”
He presses his forehead against mine, his breath warm, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Be here with me, just for a minute.”
His fingers glide up my spine in a slow, unhurried path, sending warmth from my chest down to my toes. My anxiety loosens its grip.
Because he’s right. Because he’s here.
I curl my fingers into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, and he smiles.
His hands slide up my hips, his fingertips tracing the line of my ribs as if he’s memorizing me all over again, before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of my cheek.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs, like it’s the easiest truth he’s ever said.
Another kiss, just below my ear. “And I’m honored you trusted me enough to share it.”
