It will only ever be her. The silence of my house, the volume of my memories, and the way my heart races just thinking about my time with her tell me that it will always remain true. I might not be able to make her mine, but in my heart, she always will be.
Pulling in a deep breath, I slowly exhale as I squeeze my eyes shut, but all I see is her. The way she looked at me as she climbed into her car and drove away when we got home earlier this evening. That lingering pause that lasted a beat too long, leaving the unspoken words hanging between us.
I drag a hand over my face and release a low groan. I should text her. Check to see that she made it home safely. Keep it normal. Casual. Safe. However, looking at the clock, it’s after ten, and she’s probably already in bed.
I don’t move. Instead, I stare at my phone on the nightstand, fighting the urge to call her and tell her everything that’s been racing through my mind. I should tell her that my bed feels empty without her. That I can’t stop thinking about her, and that something happened in that shared room, with her lying in my arms each night.
Everything changed.
It’s too late to call her, so, instead, I’ll drive by her place, just to see if she’s still up. Tossing the covers off, I’m sliding into gym shorts, tossing a T-shirt over my head, grabbing my phone, and rushing downstairs. Sliding my bare feet into my tennis shoes, I swipe my key fob off the counter where I left it and rush out the door.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m idling at the curb of her condo. There’s a soft glow coming from the window, which I hope means she’s awake. Turning off the engine, I grab what I need before locking up and making my way to her front door. I don’t want to risk waking Mia, so I opt for a text message instead of knocking on the door.
* * *
Me: I’m at your door.
* * *
I hit Send before I can talk myself out of it. I’ll wait a few minutes, and if she doesn’t answer, I’ll head back home and sleep on the couch. I’m gripping my phone like a lifeline when I hear the lock disengage, and then the door opens.
And there she is.
Mandy.
Her hair is piled on top of her head. Her face is fresh, with no trace of makeup. She’s wearing a tank top and no bra, with a pair of the tiniest tight-ass shorts I’ve ever seen.
“Will, is everything okay?” she asks, her tone soft.
I shake my head because there’s a lump in my throat, making it hard to speak. Instead, I step inside and close the door, twisting the lock before turning to face her.
This is it.
No more holding back.
Whatever challenges we have to face, we face them together.
“I miss you,” I rasp. I take a step toward her, but she doesn’t move. “I can’t sleep. My bed is too big, too empty. My house is too quiet,” I say, taking another step. She still doesn’t move, but the rapid rise and fall of her breath tells me she’s affected by my words.
I take one more step, bringing us chest to chest. My palms lift to cradle her cheeks as she tilts her head back to look at me. “I don’t want to be anywhere but with you.” My confession is whispered as I bend my head closer to hers.
“Tell me you don’t feel it, Mandy. Tell me it’s all in my head, and I’ll go.” My eyes bore into hers. Watching. Waiting. My heart slams against my ribs as the silence stretches between us. Then, she moves.
She grips my shirt, her eyes welling with tears. “I don’t want you to go,” she murmurs. “I feel it, too, but Will, we have to think about this. It’s more than just us. I’m a single mom, and your daughter is my best friend. I can’t lose her, but I don’t want to lose you either.”
Dropping my hands, I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. “I know, baby, but we’ll figure it out together. Bellamy, she’ll come around. When she understands what you mean to me, she’ll accept us.”
I know in my heart that my daughter wants her best friend to be happy and loved, and I can make sure that’s how she stays. Bellamy just needs to see us together. Then she’ll know what we have. While unexpected, it’s everything.
She pushes at my chest, and I drop my arms, allowing her the space she needs. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, it’s her soft, gentle hands that rest against my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to fall for you,” she utters.
“You didn’t fall on your own, and you never have to worry. I’m right here, waiting to catch you. Both of you. Mia is a part of this, too. I know that the two of you are a package deal, and I want that. I want both of you,” I say, bending to press my forehead to hers.
“We want you, too,” she breathes. The conviction in her tone undoes me, and I need to kiss her.
Slowly, I trail my hands from her waist up her back, until I slide my hand to cradle the nape of her neck. I move in at a snail’s pace, giving her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she rises on her toes, and her mouth meets mine.
The kiss deepens naturally, unhurried but full of everything we haven’t said. I feel her melt into me, and I tighten my hold, one arm wrapping around her waist, anchoring her against my chest. She fits there. Too perfectly. Like she’s always belonged.