Chapter 25
Korren
When I wake up with Dex’s arms around me the next morning, it’s nice.
Nicer than I’d expected. I’m not a cuddler, never have been, and I only stayed the night with one hookup once because I was drunk and fell asleep by accident.
Even my girlfriend of nearly a year never stayed the night because I was living in a shared house where privacy was nonexistent.
As soon as I’m fully conscious, I decide I need to get up right away and create distance between myself and what happened last night.
Problem is, the bed is really warm and soft, especially compared to the mattress I’ve been sleeping on.
Also, I can’t bring myself to leave Dex’s embrace.
Maybe I do like cuddling.
A combination of the warm bed and the aftermath of the best sex I’ve had in fucking eons has put my head in a fuzzy, muted sort of place that might be happiness.
I’m not going to examine it too closely, though, because everything about this is pretend and the whole house of cards will collapse at the slightest breath of air.
It’s Dex. I know it’s him. I’m not gay for him or anything, but I can see that his presence in my life has given me something to focus on besides my own issues.
He’s cheerful enough not to get dragged down by my gloom, and even though he’s uncovered a few of my secrets, I don’t feel like he’s always judging me or thinking less of me because of it.
Part of me is worried that I should be listening to the warning signs and getting myself out of this situation before I start depending on Dex for my sanity, but it’s a small enough part that I can ignore it.
This, right here, is too nice to let go of.
Maybe for a while I’ll just stop thinking about anything at all and let myself enjoy what I have.
Far too soon, Dex’s alarm is reminding us that we still have trainings to attend until the weekend.
“Fucking hell,” Dex mumbles as he smashes his fingers into his phone until the noise stops. “You smell nice, d’you know that?”
I choose not to respond to this, instead sliding from bed and pulling on clothes as fast as I can, before the sight of Dex shirtless gets me thinking too much about last night.
All I know for sure is that we were definitely not drunk enough for what happened.
When I let myself out of the bedroom, the kitten is immediately mewing and throwing herself all over me. We kept her inside overnight, and now she’s trying to trip me as she winds around my ankles and butts her head against my calves. I finally relent and pick her up.
“Were you lonely, my little furball?”
I scratch her head with her body draped across one arm, her purring like a tiny motor.
Maybe it’s not Dex who is helping me move on but this kitten.
Something about petting a cat pulls me right out of my thoughts and into the moment, where this independent and capable little creature has chosen to shower me in love.
It’s nice to have someone looking up to you and thinking you’re the most amazing thing that ever happened to them, even if that someone is just a cat.
Once the kitten has had her fill of cuddles and jumped down, I find a bowl and fill it with the dry food I bought yesterday. She looks at me as if disappointed that I don’t have more tuna, and I say, “What? I can’t afford to give you that fancy shit all the time.”
Soon Dex is up as well, groaning and stretching his arms over his head. The sight of him does something funny to me. He gives me a smile, dimples showing, and I return it shyly.
“I always think it’s criminal that my uncle doesn’t give us more of a break after each fire,” Dex says. “It’s easy for him to say we’re smarter to keep exercising than to let ourselves stiffen up. He’s not the one doing the damn workouts.”
“Good morning to you too,” I say.
Dex laughs. “I forgot you like that crap.”
We have just enough time to brew a cup of coffee before we head into work, and I notice Dex is now prepared with a French press and a good brand of coffee.
“You’re a fucking godsend,” I say as he fills my thermos.
“Only the best for you, baby,” he teases.
Our hands touch as he hands the steaming thermos to me, and there’s something that wasn’t there before, a sort of hyperawareness of his skin against mine. Which probably makes sense given what happened last night. Not that I’m going to follow this train of thought any further.
We let ourselves and the kitten outside, and Dex reaches for my hand.
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve gotten used to this—to the way our fingers link together perfectly, the warm weight of his palm against mine.
And this time it doesn’t just feel like comfort and wordless connection.
It feels like the promise of more to come.
As we walk, Dex says, “What’re we going to name the cat?”
“I haven’t thought about it yet. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t give up on us while we were away at the fire first.”
“I like Furball.”
I nudge my shoulder against Dex’s. “That’s not dignified enough. She’s going to grow up to be a beautiful thing. She needs a name to suit her.”
“Black Beauty.”
I snort. “That’s a horse, dumbass.”
Dex is grinning. “I know.”
“Besides, she’s my cat, so I get to decide. I think I’ll call her Charcoal.”
We’re heading through town now, the lake and surrounding mountains visible as we amble down the sloping main street.
This place is starting to get under my skin.
It’s just as Dex said—it’s like the last frontier, one little settlement and then wilderness in every direction.
There’s something incredible about that.
Something that helps me remember how small I am compared to the vastness out there.
As we pass the bakery, Dex’s friend Rowan ducks out and says, “Hey! Dex! What are you doing this weekend?”
Dex looks at me and shrugs. “Not much.”
“My cousin is away for a bit and has offered to loan us his boat. You up for a fishing trip up the delta? Korren can come too.”
“Absolutely,” Dex says. “You down for that, Korren?”
“Sure.” And here I was just thinking how much I’d love to get out and explore the wilderness around Copper Creek.