Chapter 23 #2
As we walked through the now-empty common room, I took in the familiar surroundings, but everything felt different with Jude beside me. We passed a few doors before he stopped in front of his own. Pulling out his keys, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaving me breathless at the threshold.
He shut the door behind us, and as he turned to face me, the weight of the moment settled over us.
“Ever,” he whispered, stepping closer.
“Jude,” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest. “Kiss me, Jude.”
This all felt like a dream I had so many times before, and I wasn’t going to let it pass.
Our mouths met again before either of us could think better of it.
This time there was nothing hesitant about it.
Jude’s hand slid into my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss, and I felt it all the way down to my toes. I pressed closer without meaning to, my hands finding his chest, then his shoulders, gripping like I needed something solid to hold onto.
He tasted like beer and something darker, something that was just him, and it made my head spin in the best possible way.
His other hand found my waist, pulling me in until there wasn’t any space left between us. Every inch of him was firm, warm, real. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it.
I should have been nervous.
I should have slowed it down sooner.
But all I could think was him.
His mouth moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t in a rush but also wasn’t holding back. My fingers curled into his shirt, and when he shifted closer, I let out a soft breath against his lips that turned into something more when he kissed me again.
It wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t polite.
It was hungry in a way that made my skin heat and my thoughts scatter.
His hand slid up my back, fingers splaying just under my shoulder blade, holding me there like he didn’t trust himself to let go.
I didn’t want him to.
Not yet.
Not when this was something I had imagined for years and was now finally feeling for real.
I leaned into him more, my body reacting before my brain could catch up, and that’s when I felt the shift.
Not wrong.
Not bad.
Just… more.
Like if we didn’t stop, we weren’t going to.
We broke apart at the same time, like something inside both of us snapped back into place.
I sucked in a breath, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. My lips felt swollen, my whole body buzzed in a way I didn’t know what to do with.
Jude didn’t move far.
He stayed close.
Too close.
His eyes were dark, intense, and filled with something that made my stomach twist in a completely different way.
Not confusion.
Not curiosity.
Need.
“We should slow down,” I said, even though every part of me was screaming the opposite.
He nodded immediately. “Whatever you want.”
No hesitation.
No push.
Just… that.
And somehow that made it harder because I did want him.
God, I wanted him.
But wanting him and being ready for all of this?
Those weren’t the same thing.
“Uh… maybe I should get ready for bed,” I said, my voice a little unsteady.
And then it hit me.
I didn’t have anything to change into.
Of course I didn’t because I hadn’t planned for this. Hadn’t planned for him.
Jude stepped back, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to reset himself.
“Let me get you a shirt.” He crossed the room to his dresser, pulled open a drawer and grabbed something without overthinking it.
When he turned back, he held it out to me, his gaze softer now but still focused.
“There,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom.
I took it from him, my fingers brushing his for just a second, and that tiny contact sent another spark through me. I slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
The quiet hit immediately.
Too quiet after everything that had just happened.
I turned toward the mirror.
And froze.
My lips were flushed, slightly swollen, like they didn’t quite belong to me. My eyes looked wider, darker, my pupils blown in a way that made me look… different.
Not like the girl who had walked in here earlier.
Like someone who had just been kissed like that. By him.
I lifted a hand and touched my bottom lip lightly, like I needed to confirm it was real.
It was. Every second of it.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself, trying to calm the way my heart was still racing.
I changed quickly, pulling off my clothes and slipping into his shirt. It hung on me slightly, was soft and warm, and smelled like him in a way that made my chest tighten again.
I used the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, and took one more look at myself.
Still me.
Just… not exactly the same.
I opened the door and stepped back into the bedroom. Jude was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, like he was giving me space without leaving.
God.
How was this happening?
I had imagined this moment so many times over the years, and now that it was actually real, I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust that I wasn’t going to wake up in my own bed and realize it had all been a dream.
“Uh… if you’re not tired, you can go hang out with your…” I trailed off, unsure what word to use. “Friends?”
Jude shook his head, reaching down to pull off his boots.
“I’m good right here.”
Of course he was.
I nodded and moved to the other side of the bed, trying not to overthink every single step.
Trying not to spiral.
Trying not to ruin this.
I sat down slowly, then pulled the covers back and slid in, the fabric of his shirt brushing my skin.
It smelled like him. God, it smelled like him.
I curled slightly on my side, watching him as he stood and moved around the room.
He pulled his shirt over his head.
My breath caught. I couldn’t help it.
He glanced at me and let out a quiet chuckle. “Keep looking at me like that, Ever,” he said. “And we’re going to do more than sleep.”
Heat flooded my face instantly. I turned my head slightly, but not enough to stop looking completely.
He crossed the room, flipped off the light, and the space dropped into a softer darkness, lit only by whatever filtered in from outside.
He kicked off his pants and climbed into bed beside me.
We didn’t touch.
Not at first.
We both lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling like we were trying to process the same thing in two different ways.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
It was… full.
Heavy in a way that felt important.
“I’m afraid this is all a dream,” I admitted quietly. “And I’m going to wake up in my own bed.”
He turned his head slightly toward me.
“It’s real, beautiful,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
My chest tightened at that.
Tonight, I chose to believe him.
And as I closed my eyes, I hoped, just this once, that when I woke up, it would still be true.