Page 41 of As a Last Resort

AUSTIN

I walked into the house holding my breath. There was a chance she decided to go back to her house since her mom wasn’t there, but I know she felt uncomfortable there alone.

There was a note on the kitchen counter.

I’m sorry for being a jerk.

You are the best ferry captain in the whole wide world.

Do you forgive me?

Circle YES or NO

A relieved breath left my chest.

“Can I take that as a yes ?”

I didn’t see her bundled up on the sofa when I walked in.

She was there. On my couch, snuggled up in my blanket and not anywhere else. The smart thing to do was not lean into whatever this was. I shouldn’t care. But the moment I saw her here, safe in my house, I wanted her to stay.

Even though I shouldn’t.

I loved the way she stood up to me and bantered with me, calling me out on my bullshit.

I loved her quiet vulnerability and her trust in me to allow me to see her for who she really was.

But she was strong. Stronger than anyone else I’d ever met.

To go through what she did in high school, losing her dad, the accident with her mom, and still be full of life and light was more than I could imagine.

She wasn’t scared to push me. She wasn’t scared to ask questions.

I loved the way she laughed. The way her face lit up when she caught me looking at her. The sound of her voice and the way she usually piled her hair on top of her head like a bird’s nest and her skin and her smile. She drove me crazy, like a drug I couldn’t get enough of.

I had this overwhelming urge to crawl up beside her and pull her in my lap, tell her everything would work out—her mom would be fine, she’d get the promotion, but if not, it was better that way anyway.

That we could figure it out. She’d never have to take a call about her mom alone again.

That I’d protect her and take care of her if she would just let me.

But I stood there, my feet glued to the floor, scared of what that all meant. I sat on the barstool facing her instead to keep myself from falling.

I grabbed the pen and circled yes.

She stood up and walked toward me cradling a mug of coffee in her hand, the steam curling lazily into the air. Strands of damp hair clung to her shoulder leaving a dark circle on her oversized sweatshirt— my oversized sweatshirt. She looked exhausted, and absolutely beautiful.

She leaned over my shoulder to glance at the paper and my heart tumbled at the smell of my shampoo on her. I didn’t just smell it, I felt it—her nearness, the intimacy of it—everything she was wrapped around me in an instant.

I was falling for her.

“You’re drinking coffee?” I asked, my voice a bit hoarse.

“I’m just holding it. It makes me feel warm inside.” She nestled herself in between my legs. My skin buzzed everywhere we touched.

“I know the feeling.”

She leaned into my lap and reached behind me to put her coffee cup down on the counter.

“I think you make a perfect ferryboat captain,” she whispered as she kissed my cheek.

“And you’d make a perfect fishing boat captain, too.

” She pressed a kiss to my other cheek. “And you’d make a great captain of, like, anything else that needed a captain.

” Her soft giggle tickled my neck. My skin was on fire and my fingers were tingling to touch her.

I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer.

“I hate to break the moment and all,” she whispered into my ear, “but you smell like fish.” She laughed out loud and threw a hand over her mouth.

“Hazard of the job.” I closed my eyes and tried to calm the raging sea in my chest. “Give me five.” I stood to pull the shirt over my head.

Her eyes darkened. “For the record, you should never wear a shirt ever again.”

I smiled. This would be the fastest, hottest shower I’d ever had in my life.

As the scorching water rolled down my back, I thought about Sam leaving. It would rip my heart out. But did it have to? Could we somehow make this work? Could she be happy back here?

What about the city? I’d never been, but maybe there would be a chance I could make it work?

After Vanessa left, I was a wreck. For a while.

I hadn’t opened up my heart in a long time.

But there was something about Sam that made my insides smile.

I wanted to be near her, whatever it took.

I wanted her on my couch, snuggled up in my clothes.

I wanted to wake up next to her and take care of her and protect her from everyone else in the world that would ever try and do her harm.

I wanted her to fall into me at night and feel safe, feel taken care of, and know I wouldn’t go anywhere.

I planned everything out with Vanessa—where we’d live, how many kids we’d have, the color of our living room walls.

Maybe I didn’t have to plan everything out.

Maybe the city, or the house didn’t matter.

Maybe Sam and I could take it one step at a time and see where we ended up. The thought scared me. It terrified me.

I turned the shower off and threw on a pair of sleep pants. Maybe we could just see where it goes?

Her door was open a crack. If I stepped through that door, there was no turning back.

I wasn’t the kind of man who could have fun for a few nights and walk away unscathed.

If I walked through that door, I’d be willingly handing over my heart, knowing it could go directly into a shredder.

I didn’t just want a day or two with her.

I wanted the thousand little moments of her brushing her teeth by my side, her pouring coffee into her cup, putting groceries in my pantry.

I wanted my bathroom to smell like her in the mornings after she got ready.

I wanted her jeans left haphazardly on the floor by my bed because there wasn’t time to do anything else when we got home but kick them off.

If I took this leap, there’d be a very real chance I could wake up one day alone and shattered into a million little pieces.

I stared at her cracked door and felt the ground shift beneath me.

I wasn’t in jeopardy of falling.

I’d already jumped.

I was in free fall.

I pushed the door open slowly while my heart swelled with every step. I crossed the room to the side of the bed. She lay curled on top of the blanket, her shoulder gracefully rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her head rested on the pillow, hair sprawled out around her, beautifully fast asleep.

My heart liquefied into a puddle at my feet.

I reached down and brushed a stray piece of hair from across her face, careful not to wake her.

Her lips were barely parted, breath whispering through the room in little waves.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching her.

She looked so peaceful, as if the weight she carried all day finally had lifted for just a few hours.

Then, guilt hit me, hard and fast. Tonight would’ve only complicated things. I refused to be yet another thing she’d have to carry. I wanted to take every burden I could from her shoulders and put them on mine, not become one myself.

I tore myself from the guest room, every step heavier than the last, and slowly pulled the door shut behind me.