Addison
The porch swing creaked softly beneath us as it swayed back and forth, the briny breeze carrying the scent of salt and lilac through the evening air.
I curled into Sawyer’s side, one hand tucked beneath her jacket and my head resting on her shoulder. Her arm held me close while her fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns along my forearm.
I let my gaze drift toward the water.
The harbor stretched wide and silvery in the early evening light.
Boats bobbed gently against their moorings, their lines creaking now and then, and somewhere farther down the street a door closed and a dog barked once before the quiet settled again.
The town seemed to be winding down for the night, and the stillness wrapped around us like a blanket.
I shifted a little closer to her warmth, pressing my cheek into her shoulder. After a moment, I stilled. “Can I ask you something?” I murmured, my voice soft enough that the breeze almost carried it away.
Sawyer turned her head and kissed the top of my hair before answering. “Anything. Always.”
For a second I just listened to the porch swing creak beneath us.
My heart thudded steadily in my chest, harder than I expected.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” I said slowly.
“But especially since Wednesday night… when you made me pho and had a shower and clothes waiting then rubbed my feet after dinner like some kind of perfect girlfriend fantasy.”
Sawyer laughed under her breath, a quiet sound against my temple, but I didn’t laugh with her. I needed her to hear the rest.
“And I know we haven’t really talked about what we are,” I went on, straightening slightly so I could face her more fully. Her eyes were steady on mine, the fading sunlight catching in them. “And I know we didn’t plan any of this. But…”
I drew in a breath before finishing.
“I want to be your girlfriend,” I said quietly, the words steady once they left my mouth. “I know that probably isn’t surprising after everything we’ve done and said, but I wanted to say it. Out loud. I wanted you to know.”
Sawyer stared at me for a beat. Then her crooked smile slowly appeared, something deeper and brighter lighting her eyes. “Done,” she said simply. “You’re my girlfriend.”
Relief rushed through me so quickly it almost made my head spin. I leaned in and kissed her, soft and warm and full of promise.
When I settled against her side again, I asked, “Yeah? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” She kissed my temple. “Why wouldn’t I want you to be my girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” I looked down at our hands. “I’m complicated. I’m not out, and I haven’t figured out how to tell my friends or my parents. But I need you to know this is real for me, even if most people don’t know about us yet.”
Sawyer laced her fingers through mine and squeezed.
“Addie, you don’t owe anyone an explanation on their timeline. You get to decide when, how, and who you tell.” Her voice was calm and sure. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The breath I released felt like it had been trapped in my chest all week.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I’ve always been the one with the plan, the one who moves fast and knows exactly what’s next. But with you… I want to go slow. I want to feel all of it.”
She rested her temple against mine. “Slow is more than fine by me, love” she murmured. “As long as I get to be with you.”
I brought our joined hands up so I could press a kiss against her knuckles.
After a long stretch of comfortable silence, the words slipped out almost without warning. “I think I’m falling for you.”
She went still for a moment, then turned her hand in mine so her palm cradled my fingers.
“It’s a good fall, right?” she asked.
I tipped my head back so I could see her face clearly. My chest felt warm and open in a way that still surprised me.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s pretty wonderful.”
We stayed there like that for a long time, the porch swing rocking gently beneath us while the evening deepened and the harbor turned darker beyond the trees.
Eventually I stretched my legs out in front of me and let out a soft sigh. “We should probably get dinner,” I said.
Sawyer groaned dramatically. “Can’t we just stay right here forever?”
I kissed her cheek and stood, tugging her hand so she followed.
“Come on, biker girl,” I teased. “Let’s go feed you before you start whining.”
She grinned as she stepped off the swing behind me. “For the record, I’d whine for you anytime.”
We walked down the street like that, fingers intertwined and shoulders brushing, until we found a small Italian place tucked between two old brick buildings. The windows glowed with warm amber light, and soft acoustic music drifted through the open door.
It wasn’t flashy, not the kind of place meant to impress anyone. But the polished wood tables, flickering candles, and quiet conversations gave it a charm that made it feel special.
The hostess led us to a booth tucked toward the back of the room, where the light was dim and the space felt private. A single candle flickered between us.
I slid into the booth still wearing Sawyer’s jacket
Looking across the table at her, I realized I couldn’t stop smiling. “This feels like a real date.”
Sawyer leaned back against the seat, one arm stretched along the backrest. “That’s because it is.”
We ordered red wine, rich and earthy, and while we waited for our food, I twirled the stem of my glass slowly between my fingers.
Then I looked up at her again. “Tell me something no one knows about you.”
She raised one eyebrow. “No one?”
“Okay, maybe not no one. But something you haven’t said out loud before. Something true.”
She went quiet. Candlelight flickered across her face as she looked down at her wineglass, her thumb rubbing the edge of her napkin.
“When my mom died, I idn’t cry at the funeral.”
After everything she had told me about her mother, I understood why.
“I told you that after my sister died, she stopped being a parent,” she continued. “She started drinking and never really stopped. Eventually, her liver failed. Even when the doctors told her the alcohol would kill her, she kept drinking.”
Her thumb continued moving over the napkin.
“She drank herself to death.”
My chest tightened.
“She was a mean drunk,” Sawyer continued. “Once, she told me she wished I had died instead of my sister.” She paused. “I was twelve.”
“Sawyer.” I reached across the table, took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”
I wanted to ask about her dad, but she had already given me so much. Instead, I held on to her hand and let the silence settle between us.
“I’m afraid my mom will hate me,” I admitted. “The real me.”
Sawyer’s eyes lifted to mine.
“I think that’s why I’ve never let myself do this before. Benji came out when he was younger, but when he turned eighteen, my parents kicked him out. They didn’t speak to him for almost a decade. My dad eventually came around, but my mom only did because he fought for him.”
My fingers tightened around my glass.
“I heard him tell her once, ‘That’s our son. Take it or leave it. And if you leave, you’re going to lose more than you think.’”
I looked down at my wine.
“She came back,” I said quietly. “But it’s never really been the same.”
Sawyer squeezed my hand. “You’re scared.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“You’re allowed to be. None of this is easy.”
I forced a small smile. “It feels stupid after everything you just told me.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t. One kind of pain doesn’t cancel out another.” Her thumb moved slowly across my knuckles. “I want to know you, Addie. All of you. And I want you to know all of me.”
Her gaze held mine.
“That’s new for me. I don’t usually do vulnerability. I don’t hand people the messy parts and trust them not to use them against me.” She drew in a quiet breath. “But I want to try with you. The polished parts, the fear, the joy. All of it. I don’t care if we’ve had three dates or thirty.”
My throat tightened suddenly, and I blinked quickly I could feel tears prickling behind my eyes. “I’m happy,” I said.
Her answering grin was quiet but certain. “Me too.”
Our food came and we lingered over pasta and wine, talking and laughing and stealing bites from each other’s plates. Our knees brushed under the table and never separated.
When the check arrived I reached for it automatically, but Sawyer was faster.
“I invited you,” she said as she slipped her card into the folder. “I pay.”
I tilted my head. “You’re very chivalrous, Sawyer Wilson.”
She smiled.
“What’s your middle name?” I asked.
“Jean.”
“Sawyer Jean Wilson,” I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. “I like that.”
“What’s yours?”
“Lauren.”
“Well, Addison Lauren Hart.” Her eyes held mine. “I like you. A lot.”
My heart did a ridiculous little flip.
The check sat forgotten between us for a moment, neither of us eager to break whatever had settled over the table.
By the time we walked back to the house, the sky had gone dark. Warm lights stretched across the street, and Sawyer’s hand stayed wrapped around mine the entire way.
She unlocked the front door and held it open. “After you, girlfriend.”
The word still sent warmth through me.
Girlfriend.
It should have felt strange. Instead, it felt right.
“Careful,” I warned as I stepped inside. “I could get used to that.”
Sawyer followed me in and locked the door behind her. “That’s kind of the idea.”
* * *