Page 99 of Jay Bird

“Jay?”

“Hmmm?”

“What if I wake up and panic?”

There was no hesitation. “Then you wake me up.”

“What if I freak out?”

“Then you freak out.”

“Jay—”

“Willow.” His voice was quiet. “There’s nothing you can do tonight that’s going to make me angry with you.”

Her throat tightened as she stared into the darkness, knowing he couldn’t possibly understand what those words meant to her.

She had spent years monitoring everything she did. Every expression, every word, every movement, trying not to anger Chen, trying not to give him a reason, and trying to anticipate which version of him she was going to get.

“I might shove you out of bed.”

“Good luck.”

A laugh slipped out through the emotion tightening her chest.

“I could.”

“You’re what? A hundred and twenty pounds?”

“That’s rude.”

“I’m just saying physics isn’t on your side.”

She laughed again, and when silence returned, it felt different this time. Willow stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning toward him.

“Jay?”

“Still here.”

“Would you hold me?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he lifted his arm and waited.

Willow swallowed, then crossed the space between them on her own.

The moment her head settled against his chest, his arm came gently around her. Not tightly. Not trapping her. It was just there.

Willow rested one hand against his shirt, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat beneath her palm. Something about it was comforting, something that made her feel safe.

Jay Bird’s fingers moved lightly through her hair, offering quiet comfort without needing to say anything more.

Her eyes burned. For three years, being in bed with a man had meant fear—the constant dread of wondering what would be demanded of her, of staring at ceilings and retreating somewhere deep inside herself until it was over.

Tonight, she had walked into this room on her own. She had climbed into this bed and asked this man to hold her. And if she wanted to get up right then, she could.

As if somehow following her thoughts, Jay Bird spoke quietly.

“You know you never have to ask permission to leave this bed, right? Or this room, or this house. You know that?”