Page 44 of Hideaway Reunion

Of course he was. He’d always been her safe place, be it a hostile gym or her life falling apart. She never did this. Never broke down in a heap of self-pity. Maybe that’s what made it possible to let go with him now. Because he knew her so well. Knew this was an anomaly.

“You’re exhausted.” His voice caressed her as effectively as his hands. Soothing, calming, accepting. “No one would notice if you took a nap.”

“You’re too good to me.” She tugged on her shirt to dry her face.

“There’s no such thing,” he countered. Shifting away for a moment, he returned with the tissue box in hand.

“More evidence,” she said on a watery chuckle. “Everyone else is out there doing their part or more and I’m indulging in an ugly cry all over you.”

She loved him so much. Owed him even more. He was her best and oldest friend. Her best and newest love. She wished she understood how to reconcile that development within all the other stuff going on. “Thank you for being here. For me. For all of us.”

“Nowhere I’d rather be.”

She recognized the tone. One more perk of their long-running friendship. He meant it. Which was weird and wonderful. “You hate it when I cry.”

“I’m with you, Roni. Being with you, in any state, will always be my favorite place.”

Her heart stuttered and another wave of tears came and went. He was so good to her. He had been way too kind long before he’d admitted he had deeper feelings for her. She wanted to tell him how her own feelings were changing, but this seemed like a lousy time.

She wanted advice, but didn’t want to share any of this with anyone other than him. Shouldn’t he be the first to learn she loved him? What a predicament.

“I hate crying,” she declared when she caught her breath again. “Nat’s the emotional one. She’s better at it.”

A low laugh rumbled through his chest. “Guess we’ll add it to all the things you need to practice.”

“All?” Her head snapped up to meet his gaze, nearly catching his chin. “What do you mean all?”

“Vulnerability for a start.” He sat up, leaning against the headboard, and bringing her with him. Snuggled under his arm, she fiddled with the crumpled tissue in her hand, not quite meeting his gaze. “It’s okay to not have the answers. It’s even okay to have the answer no one wants to hear.”

“Dad.”

“For starters, yes.” He sighed, deeply. “And me. Us. Last night was⁠—”

“Stop.” She flew off the bed, stared at him from a safe distance. “You can’t, um, we can’t talk about that now.”

“Why not?” He frowned, a rare expression, at least with her. “We should discuss it at some point.”

“Not now,” she repeated. Rushing away, intent on cooling her hot face, she was in the bathroom before she realized that’s where she’d initiated everything intimate with him. She had invited him to the shower that had led to everything else.

A few hours ago, that was completely awesome. Now she was a wreck about her choices. About the changes.

“Roni. Talk to me.”

Of course he followed her. He filled the doorway with all his fit and shredded perfection. His arms bunched as he braced his hands on the door frame and leaned in.

“I can’t.” She flapped her hands at him, but he didn’t budge. “Not with you doing all of that.”

His mouth quirked.

“Do not make fun of me,” she warned.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Still, he didn’t move. Not closer. Not away. He just lingered. Was that more of a temptation or problem right now? She turned back to the sink and ran her hands under the cold water, pressing the water to her face to buy time. Surely her brain would come back online within a few more seconds.

“Has your dad responded?”

“Not yet.” Leave it to Brayden to find the topic she could discuss. She dried her hands and face, then pulled out her hair tie and brushed her hair before pulling it up into a ponytail again. “Either way, Celeste and Nat will be furious. With him or me or both of us.”