Page 76 of Freefall

It isn’t until I’m pulling onto the main road that the weight of what I wrote finally hits me.

You both look happy. Be home soon.

When I open the door twenty minutes later, the house is steeped in the kind of calm darkness I’m usually asleep for. I ease the door shut behind me, careful not to let the latch click, then slip off my shoes and head into the kitchen. It’s spotless. The counters have been wiped clean. The coffee rings on the table are gone, along with every squeezed lemon half from the picture Nate sent earlier.

The picture comes to mind again. So does the text I sent, which Nate never responded to.

Home. I could pretend I’d meant my house or that it was just something people say. But it wasn’t. It felt different when I typed it absentmindedly and again when I reread it while sitting at a red light on the way home.

The soft glow from Daisy’s night light spills through the crack in her bedroom door.

Suddenly, my pulse quickens. Where’s Nate? I know he wouldn’t just leave, but then where the hell is he?

I pad quietly down the hallway and nudge her door open another inch. My breath catches. He’s sitting on the floor next to Daisy’s bed, his head tipped back against the nightstand, one arm resting on his stomach. His eyes are closed, his chest moving in deep pulls.

Daisy is fast asleep in her bed, sprawled beneath her pink blanket, her stuffed Narwhal, Finley, snuggled under her chin.

Warmth blooms in my chest.

He stayed with her.

I take a careful step into the room, and the floorboard creaks. His eyes open instantly. “You’re home.”

His voice is rough with sleep.

“Yeah.”

He wipes a hand across his face, then checks his watch, but the light is too dim to read it. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” I glance over at Daisy again. “You didn’t have to sleep in here.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he says, pushing himself up. “She asked me to stay. My eyes must have closed for a second.”

I can’t help smiling. Lifting a finger to my lips, I tilt my head toward the hallway. He walks quietly toward me, careful not to wake Daisy, and follows me out before I gently close her bedroom door.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Nate rasps, his voice still a little thick. “Did you have fun?”

I nod. “It was nice.” I take a step toward him.

“But I don’t want to talk about my night.”

His brow furrows. “Then what⁠—”

I don’t let him finish. Instead, I close the space between us and press my lips firmly to his. No warning this time. Not like our first kiss in his car in that parking lot that changed our lives forever.

For the briefest moment, he doesn’t move, like I’ve stunned his entire body into paralysis. Then one hand reaches up to cup my jaw, warm and steady, his thumb brushing lightly across my cheek.

I lean into his touch, grasping the front of his shirt and bunching the fabric in my fists. My lips part, and a quiet sigh escapes as my tongue darts out, seeking entrance.

That’s all it takes.

Something inside him snaps.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding past the seam of my lips. My heart is beating so wildly against my ribs that I’m sure he can feel it. He takes one slow step forward, then another, guiding me backward until my shoulders hit the wall. I instantly feel his erection digging into my belly.

Then as quickly as it started, he pulls away, breaking the kiss. His forehead drops against mine, and we both breathe hard. “Harper.”

“Why did you stop?” I hate how needy I sound.