"You want to sleep?" Miles asks.
His voice startles me from my thoughts. "Yeah." I turn and smile at him. "Thanks for stopping by."
He chuckles. "Raine, I'm not leaving you here. You're either coming back with me or we're sleeping here."
"You'd stay with me?"
"Of course. There's no place I'd rather be."
I look down, and am about to tell him to leave like I normally would, but instead I lay down on the sleeping bag and pull the blanket over me.
"So I guess we're sleeping here," he says with a laugh. He lays down beside me, pulling the blanket over both of us.
I snuggle up next to him, resting my head on his chest.
"Sit up a little," he says. When I do, he slips his arm under me. "Okay."
I lay back on his chest and feel him pulling me closer. His other arm closes around my back and I feel him kiss my head. "Goodnight, Raine."
Having him here, being in his arms, I realize how calm I feel. And safe. For the first time in all my months of sleeping outside, I feel safe.
"I love you, Miles," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
Silence follows and my heart races, fearing I said the wrong thing. I freaked him out. He wasn't ready. Or maybe he doesn't feel the same way.
I start to pull away, but his arms tighten around me.
"I love you, too, Raine. More than you know."
My body relaxes and my heart slows back to normal. And then I smile because I know for sure that this is real. I told Gladys I couldn't trust myself to know. That I'd been wrong about love in the past. But this time? This time I know. There's no doubt. No second guessing. No weird feeling in my gut telling me something's off. This time I know it's real.
Morning arrives before I want it to and when Miles wakes me up, it's still dark.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"Just after five. I have to get to the office. I didn't get enough work done last night so I need to get in early. Let's go. You can go back to sleep at my place."
I get up and start gathering my things. Feeling him staring at me, I look back at him. "What?"
"You're not going to fight me on it?"
"Not this time. I really like your bed."
He comes up behind me, his arms circling around me as he kisses my cheek. "Is that all you like?"
"I might like the owner of the bed too."
"Just like?"
I flip to face him. "I more than like him but it's hard for me to say that so don't expect to hear it again. Or ever."
"Ever?" His brows rise. "That's a long time. You know, I've heard it gets easier the more you say it. Maybe if you just practiced a little."
I smile, rolling my eyes.
"I'll show you." He leans down to my ear. "I love you, Raine. I love you, I love you, I love you." He backs away. "See? It got easier each time."
"Good to know." I turn back to my stuff and fold up my blanket.
"What time's the coffee shop open?" he asks.
"They should be open now."
"Let's go get some breakfast."
We leave the tent and go to the coffee shop, greeted by the sound of the coffee grinder and espresso machine. The place is half-full already with office workers getting their caffeine fix before the day starts.
"Hey, guys!" Zoe says, walking up to us. "You're here early."
"So are you," I say. "You're working the morning shift now?"
"Just today. I'm taking Gladys to the doctor this afternoon so I switched shifts with the night manager."
"The doctor?" I ask, sounding panicked. "Is Gladys okay?"
"She's fine. This is just a quick check to make sure her lungs are clearing up." Zoe lowers her voice. "I'm not so sure about that free clinic you took her to. I'm sure the doctors there are fine but I'd feel better if she saw my family doctor."
"It's a good idea. I wasn't sure about that free clinic either. They're always rushing people through. Let me know how the appointment goes."
"I will. So what brings you here so early?"
"Miles has to get to work."
"They make you work a lot of hours?" she asks Miles.
"They want me to work nonstop but I won't do it. I value my free time." He puts his arm around me.
Zoe smiles when she sees it. "It was chilly last night." She looks at me. "Did you stay at Miles' place?"
"Um, no. He stayed here. But it wasn't that cold. Not nearly as bad as the night before."
"Hopefully we'll stay back at my place tonight," Miles says. "I don't mind camping now and then but I prefer trees and fresh air over street noise and pollution."
Zoe laughs. "Maybe you could bring the tent to your apartment. Camp inside tonight."
"That's a good idea," Miles says to me.
"So what can I get you?" Zoe asks.
We order coffee and Miles lets me pick from the assortment of pastries, then we bring it all back to his apartment.
"What do you think about her idea?" Miles asks as we have breakfast on his couch.
"What idea?"
"About the tent. Why don't we bring it back here, along with your other stuff?"
"Why would we do that?"
"So it doesn't get stolen or destroyed by the weather. We're supposed to have storms later this week. A strong wind or hail could take down the tent and then everything inside it would get wet and ruined."
"If we do that, I won't have any place to go."
He motions to his apartment.
"Yeah, I know I can stay here," I say, "but it doesn't feel right to be here all the time. I need my own place."
"Which you'll get once you're able to. But for now, would it really be that bad to share an apartment with the guy you love?"
"I don't—" A smile creeps up my face. "Dammit."
"Couldn't do it, could you?" he asks before biting into a glazed donut.
"Do what?" I tear off a piece of apple fritter.
"You couldn't say you don't love me. Because you do." He takes another bite of his donut, staring at me as he chews.
"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes.
"You don't have to say it." He grabs a napkin from the table and wipes his hands. "I already know." He gets up and walks to the kitchen. "But to be clear on the rules, you can't take it back. Once it's out there, it's done. No backsies."
"No backsies?" I laugh. "What are we, 12?"
"I like to think I operate on more like a 15-year-old's level. Maybe 17, although that's pushing it."
I get up and take the donut bag to the kitchen. "You have a job. An apartment. I'd say that makes you at least 20." I set the bag down. "What's your real age? You never told me."
"Twenty-five. How about you?"
"Guess." I lean against the counter, my arms crossed.
"Twenty?"
I laugh. "I really look that young? Guess again."
"Twenty-two."