Page 40 of Just Between Us

Eventually, Cassie begins to stir, one hand going to wipe her eyes, then drifts to settle on my chest. I go still, afraid if I move a muscle she might pull away. Her fingers bunch in the fabric of my shirt and hazel eyes lift to meet mine.

“My little sleeping beauty,” I say, but she scoffs and looks away, pulling her hand to her lap.

“Not sure that title fits today.”

I catch her chin with my knuckle, bringing her attention back to me. “Hey, don’t do that. It fits today more than ever.”

Cassie shifts on my lap, so I rest my hands on her waist to help her, my thumb brushing against the inch of exposed skin between her top and shorts. Awareness of how warm her skin feels beneath my touch settles low and dangerous in my body and I have to pull my hand away the second she’s steady.

She clambers to a standing position, stretches and walks to the window, while I circle my foot at the ankle, bringing it back to life.

“How long did I sleep?”

“A while. Figured you needed the rest.”

When sensation returns to my foot, I stand and stretch my arms up, my spine cracking at the motion.

“Cassie, do you want to stay at my house tonight? Company might be good for you.”

I can think of a million reasons, stacking up one by one, for why Cassie sleeping at my house is a bad fucking idea. I don’t do this. Women don’t come home with me. Any other day I’d bite back the words. But that’s not what this is. Especially not today.

My question hangs between us, no pressure or expectations. Just an offer. Her eyes soften and I know she hears my intent. This isn’t acome to my house to sleep with me.It’s more of ayou don’t have to be alone tonight. Let me carry some of the weight for you.

She gives a quick nod and the tiniest smile curls the corner of her lip. The sight of that smile on her sleep creased face is themost beautiful thing I’ve seen in…well, since the last time one of her smiles was directed at me.

While Cassie packs an overnight bag, I duck into the bathroom to clean up. I don’t want her returning tomorrow with this mess as a reminder of her unraveling. She’ll have enough to grapple with. It’s a quick job, and by the time I return, she’s zipping her bag closed. I move in and take it, slinging it over one shoulder. Cassie grabs her phone and charger, slides on some shoes and I guide her out, my palm splayed against the small of her back.

The air is cooler this evening; a sure sign autumn is coming. That’s how the weather is in Alabama. One day you’re still in the heat of summer, and overnight you feel the breeze of autumn as the leaves slowly start to turn.

We reach the gravel drive that leads home, and I veer onto it, slowing to a stop in front of Mom and Dad’s.

“Gotta grab Mutt. I’ll be quick.”

Cassie waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t hurry on my account. I’ll be right here.”

I jog up the front walk and let myself in. Mutt and my parents’ dog, Lucy, both greet me, so I kneel to distribute pets and love.

“Mutt, buddy! Our favorite girl is waiting in the truck!”

Mutt’s ears perk up, like he knows exactly who I mean.

Footsteps sound as my mom approaches, looking past me to where my truck sits idling outside.

“Oh, shoot. I packed you some leftovers from dinner. Let me add in enough for Cassie. It’ll only be a second,” Mom says, heading to the kitchen.

I don’t know what it says about me that she knew exactly who I meant when I said our favorite girl. With that thought bouncing in my head, I follow her and take a seat at the kitchen table while she spoons out pot roast, potatoes, and carrots into a to-go container.

She’s humming happily, in a way I know all too well meansshe’s working up to something and my stomach twists uncomfortably.

“What’s up, Mom?”

She looks up, one hand going to poise dramatically against her heart. “I have no idea what you mean.” That’s all she says as she goes back to packing up vegetables for a side salad. When she’s finished, she looks at me, one brow raised.

“To my knowledge, you haven’t had a woman at your house since…” She lets the sentence trail off, but we both know how it would have ended.Since Julie.

Mom’s eyes meet mine, laced with sadness, her lips turned down.

It’s not like my mom to pry or bring up things better left unsaid. She’s a lot like me in that. We mind our business, and live our lives.