Page 157 of Lose You Twice

I chuckle, placing her friend back into the drawer before grabbing a pair of underwear and tossing them at her. She grins, shimmying into them as I grab my discarded shirt from the ground before slipping it over her head.

I press a quick kiss to her lips, grinning at her. “Maybe your toy and I could work together sometime. You know, make sure we have good team chemistry and all that.”

She laughs, swatting at my chest.

I help her move up to her pillows and get under the blankets.

Her cheeks are still pink, but the tension has left her face. She looks warm and soft and more at ease than I’ve seen her in weeks.

I sit next to her on the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead.

“Better?”

She studies me for a moment.

Then she reaches out and traces her fingers along my jaw. “Much.”

I turn my head and kiss her palm.

Her eyes soften.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” she murmurs.

“I wanted to.”

She yawns, a sleepy grin on her face. “Stay for a few minutes?”

I wrap both arms around her.

“As long as you want me.”

24

WREN

“Do you always have to look like you lost a fight with your bag?”

I glance down at myself as Harlow shuts her dorm room door behind us.

One strap of my bag is sliding off my shoulder, my sweatshirt is bunched oddly under it, and I’m holding a granola bar in my teeth as I look for my water bottle. “I’m sorry my aesthetic offends you.”

“It doesn’t offend me.” Harlow reaches over and tugs the strap back onto my shoulder. “It concerns me.”

“Look, there was once a time when I wore matching socks, had time to do my hair, and coordinate cute outfits. That time has since passed, and everyone needs to simply be grateful that I show up wearing semi-clean clothes.”

She gives me a look, then bends to pick up the pen that falls out of the side pocket of my bag and rolls across the hallway floor.

I hold out my hand.

She drops it into my palm. “How do you survive?”

“On little sleep and a lot of dry shampoo.”

We head down the hall toward the stairs, and I fall into step beside her. I’ve been in Harlow’s dorm enough times that it feels less like visiting and more like entering an alternate universe where I could’ve been. Her room is always clean, bed always made unless I’m the one sitting on it, in which case she pretends not to notice the dent I leave in the pillows.

She’s steady like that.

I am whatever the opposite of steady is.