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I wanted to admit I felt the same, but the words wouldn’t come.

Eleanor must have sensed my hesitation because she nestled closer, her head resting on my chest as I shifted onto my back. She slid under my arm, and instinctively, I wrapped it around her.

My body reacted differently than the thoughts I was currently having.

Her hair smelled of lavender and something uniquely her, filling my senses. The warmth of her skin pressed against mine was intoxicating, grounding me in a moment that felt fragile yet perfect.

The way I felt right now was foreign. There was this swell in my chest, my skin prickling not with aggravation but something warm. There was this undeniable pull to keep her here forever, to be wrapped up in Eleanor’s orbit.

It had to be the proximity, the hours spent together in this new, temporary bubble, that made me crave her this much.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, but it did nothing to stop the rush of thoughts.

What would it feel like when she left? If it was the proximity, would this ache go away? My chest tightened, and a sharp pang cut through me at the thought.

Get it together.

There was no reason to think about the future, no reason to risk the steady walls I’d built around myself.

“Do you ever see yourself settling down with someone?” Eleanor’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me into the present. Her question was even more petrifying than my contemplation of the future.

“I haven’t thought much about it,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. The statement would’ve been true if she’d asked me weeks ago.

She traced her fingers along my chest absentmindedly, her touch like a whisper against my skin. “Me neither,” she replied softly. “I kinda always saw myself alone, up until recently.”

Her gaze shifted up to meet mine, and there was something vulnerable in her expression, something I was sure she didn’t often let people see.

“Before coming here, I started asking myself what kind of life I was living,” she admitted. “I’d spend nights casually dating men I didn’t care about or sitting alone in my apartment, surrounded by all the things I thought I needed—expensive clothes, a nice car, a beautiful place to live. I worked so hard to give myself everything I never had growing up, and I did it. I made it. But now what?”

Her voice wavered, and a faint, bittersweet smile crossed her lips. “I thought I’d found love once, but that didn’t work out. After that, I wondered if maybe I was just meant to be alone forever.”

Her honesty hit me like a wave. She’d dropped the armor she wore so carefully, letting me see the woman beneath—the one with scars that mirrored my own.

“I get it,” I said, my voice low. I hadn’t planned to open up, but her vulnerability made it impossible not to. “I didn’t have much growing up either. We lived in a trailer in Lucky Lake on a piece of property my dad had gotten from his dad. Our clothes were either stolen or donated; the food was minimal. My parents were in and out of jail, never at the same time, so my brother and I didn’t get thrown into the system.”

I’d grown up with nothing, sleeping on a mattress on the floor with my brother. I guessed that’s why I never settled down or bought my own home because the thought of settling down made my skin crawl.

Lucky Lake never truly felt like my final place—the memories tied here always felt too heavy. The reputation I’d earned courtesy of my parents had become who I was because what else could I do?

“I’ve told myself the same thing for years. I figured I was better off alone,” I added, my voice a bit rough.

“Oh, Colton,” she replied but not in a pity kind of way. Eleanor’s palm fell flat on my chest, the touch grounding. “And you’ve never second-guessed that? Thought maybe no one is better off alone?” she asked, her tone almost tentative.

I hesitated, the answer clear in my heart but not on my lips.

Not until recently.

Opening up out loud felt too vulnerable.

Instead, I shrugged and reached up to cup her face, brushing my thumb against her cheekbone.

Avoidance was key to stay emotionally distant, so I kissed her instead. I’d already said too much and was starting to feel too much.

Her lips were soft and yielding, and as the kiss deepened, we fell into each other, the weight of our confessions giving way to something consuming. Her tongue met mine, and my restraint began to fray, unraveling faster with every passing second.

I pulled back, breathless, and searched her eyes, my forehead resting against hers.

“We can’t live in this fantasy forever,” I murmured, my voice heavy with the truth of it. It was my way out, my way to replace the bricks of the wall she somehow began to bring down.