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Paris’s smile didn’t fade. “I’ll pass you the book when I’m done.”
I rolled my eyes while Trisha snickered. We trailed after Paris up the stairs, but veered right when she turned left. Trisha was sticking close to me. As everyone else was asleep, the house was silent, requiring us to tread softly. My stomach knotted with anxiety as we approached my bedroom, but I waited until we were standing before the door before uttering a word.
“I’m not sure if the other rooms are set up for guests,” I whispered. “I can crash on the couch if you’d rather have the room.”
She dismissed the idea with a shake of her head, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Fuck no. Show me what Blaze Gracen was like as a teenager.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said with a grin. As I pushed open the door, a rush of nostalgia hit me—the walls still boasted the same faded posters of Star Wars and a signed basketball jersey from my high school team. The room hadn’t changed much since my teenage years; Aunt Theresa must have thought it sacrilegious to alter it.
Trisha stepped in behind me, her laughter a soft melody. “Oh, you were one of those Star Wars fanatics,” she teased, pointing at a dusty Millennium Falcon model on my shelf.
I shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at my lips. “Guilty as charged. But don’t act like you’re not impressed by my extensive collection.”
Her eyes sparkled as she picked up a bobblehead of Yoda and gave it a flick. “Impressed or worried? There’s a fine line between collector and hoarder, Mr. Gracen.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know each piece here is a classic,” I defended, watching her delicate fingers dance over the spines of worn sci-fi novels stacked haphazardly on the bookshelf.
She raised an eyebrow, pulling out a book with an absurdly muscled alien on the cover. “Classic literature? Really?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her mock-serious expression. “It’s important to appreciate all forms of storytelling,” I said, trying to maintain a semblance of dignity.
Trisha turned around, surveying the room with an impish grin. “So, where does teenage Blaze sit and brood about the universe? On the bed with these superhero sheets?”
Following her gaze to my old bed decked out in comic book bedding—something else Aunt Theresa hadn’t changed—I felt heat creep up my neck. “Uh, those are... vintage,” I stammered.
“Vintage?” she echoed with a chuckle. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Let’s just say they’re from a time when saving the galaxy seemed as simple as putting on a cape,” I replied, hoping my voice didn’t betray how endearing I found her teasing.
She plopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress. “Well then, Captain Blaze,” she said with a dramatic flourish, “your mission tonight as my sidekick is to make sure your heroine gets some rest before her last leg tomorrow.”
I joined her on the bed, unable to resist the pull of her playful energy. “I’m the sidekick?” I scoffed playfully. “I think you’ve got our roles reversed.”
Trisha winked and laid back against my pillows. “We’ll see about that.”
A chuckle escaped me, and as I drifted to sleep, the startling thought followed me into the darkness.
We fitted together perfectly.
EIGHT
TRISHA
This time,waking up with a warm body pressed against me, I knew who I was with, but it took me a moment to figure out where we were. This was not another hotel room; we were at Blaze’s family’s home. And it was Christmas Eve.
Which meant it was time for me to leave. It was time for Blaze to be with his family and me to be with my dad.
Holding that thought, I carefully slipped from under Blaze’s arm without waking him, and tiptoed across the hall to the bathroom, silently praying I wouldn’t run into any of his family members. I wasn’t afraid to meet them, but aside from Paris, I wasn’t sure who else was aware I was here, and sneaking out of Blaze’s room was not the first impression I aimed to give.
Escaping undetected, I retrieved my bag, surprised by how torn I was about leaving. On the one hand, I wanted to see my dad, and I was looking forward to our holiday together, but on the other hand, I’d really enjoyed my time with Blaze and knew that once I left, I’d most likely never see him again.
But we’d both made a point of saying that we were just having fun.
I had a feeling that would change if I didn’t leave now.
After collecting my things, I sat gently on the bed’s edge and texted my dad to say I was leaving San Ramon and would be home soon.
“Hey.”
