His thumb brushes the corner of my jaw while he says it. Slow. Deliberate. Like he's checking that I'm still here.
"Yeah."
He doesn't take his hand off me. "He's gonna do somethin' stupid soon."
The heat of his palm shifts to the side of my neck. I can feel my own pulse going against his fingertips. "How soon?"
"Soon enough that I want you and Nash sleepin' at my cabin tonight. Not yours."
I look up at his face.
His pale blue-green eyes are steady on mine. There's no give in them. He's not asking permission. He's telling me what he needs.
"Rogue…"
His hand tightens just a little at the side of my neck. Not hard. Just present.
"I know it's fast. I know. But I want you under my roof tonight."
I don't speak right away.
My eyes drop to the patch on the inside of his left forearm, then to the dots on his knuckles, then back to his face.
Nash in Rogue's spare room. My toothbrush on Rogue's bathroom counter. Waking up next to him tomorrow without having to walk across the gravel in his t-shirt afterward.
Being his.
That's what this is.
That's what he's offering.
My hand comes up and presses flat against his chest, right over his heart. I can feel it under my palm—steady, slower than mine. "All right. We’ll stay with you tonight."
The breath that leaves him is small but I feel it move through his ribcage under my hand.
"Good."
He bends down and kisses my forehead. His beard scrapes against my skin and his hand stays at the back of my neck while he does it, holding me there for the kiss like he's not done with me yet.
When he pulls back, he doesn't fully step away. "Go pack a bag for both of you. Bring Diesel. I'll come help you carry everything."
* * *
We eat dinner at Rogue's cabin.
The three of us.
I brought leftovers from the bunkhouse— beef stew, biscuits, and of course, sweet tea.
I heat the stew on Rogue's stove and Nash sits at Rogue's small kitchen table with a glass of milk in front of him and looks around like he's looking at a whole new world.
His eyes move from the cypress beams in the ceiling to the bookshelves by the front window to the rug under Diesel's belly. "Rogue, this is where you live?"
Rogue is leaning against the counter with his glass of sweet tea.
He sets the glass down on the counter and meets Nash's eyes across the room. "This is where I live, partner."
Nash takes another slow look around. His brow furrows the way it does when he's working something out. "It's nice."