She stands in the frame of the door wearing only a T-shirt, lit by moonlight.
“Beck.” Her swallow is audible. “Can I stay in here?”
I still. Jesus. The last fucking thing I need in the world right now is Kate Bennett sleeping in my bed.
“I’m sorry,” she says, turning. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Just don’t hog the covers.”
She walks to the other side of the bed, barely meeting my eye. It’s hard for her, admitting weakness. “I won’t.”
I pull the blanket over her after she slides in. “Your promises aren’t worth shit.”
She laughs. The sound is more tremulous than joyful. “Yeah. True.”
She’s grieving and in need of comfort. I know this. My body, however, only knows that Kate Bennett is in my bed, wearing a T-shirt and not much else.
It’s going to be a very long night.
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Published on December 28, 2023 16:29