Page 33 of By Your Side
“You do,” he said gently. “You just haven’t had help you trusted in a long time. And I don’t mean your family, they’re amazing. I mean a man.Yourman.”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Because if I opened my mouth, I might cry. And I wasn’t sure I had any tears left after last night.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Paige,” he added. “I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. I’ve known you forever. None of what you’re going through scares me.”
I looked down at our hands. His skin was rough, calloused from work. Mine were dry from dishes, hand sanitizer, and the constant use that came with being a mom, a bartender, and a woman who did too much. But our hands looked right together.
My breath caught. And maybe it was because the house was at peace again. Maybe it was because my heart was still wide open from last night. Maybe it was just that I was tired of pretending. But I stood up. Walked the few steps around the table. And slid into his lap.
He stiffened for a second, surprised, and then his arms came around me like they were meant to be there. I tucked my face against his neck, breathing him in—cedar and soap and the faintest hint of coffee.
“You sure about this?” he asked, voice low.
“No,” I whispered. “But I want to be.”
His hand moved up my back, fingers gentle, his touch light. “Then we’ll go slow.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him.
His eyes searched mine, careful and patient.
Then, finally, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.
And when he pulled back, I didn’t move. I just curled into him again, my arms around his shoulders, my face buried in the soft fabric of his shirt. We sat there for a long time, holding each other, while the sun rose a little higher and the rest of the house stayed miraculously still. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like something was about to fall apart.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been weird,” I said.
“You’ve been going through a lot lately,” he said, voice steady. “I’m sorry I backed off if you didn’t want me to.”
For a moment, we simply looked at each other, eyes searching, thoughtful and unhurried. There was a vulnerability hanging between us, as if we were both quietly measuring the distance we’d come and the space that was left to close. I saw the flicker of uncertainty mingling with hope in his gaze—the silent questions we were both too careful to voice but still lived behind every blink. I wondered what he saw in mine: hesitation, maybe, but also a willingness that hadn’t been there before. It felt like the room was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to decide if this was safe ground or just another edge to fall off of. And as our eyes held, something eased in me—I recognized the steadiness in his, the gentle invitation to trust, to stay a little longer in this fragile, sunlit peace.
“No, I needed the space, so much is going on. I just—” I hesitated. “Sometimes it’s easier to pretend I don’t feel anything than deal with the possibility that I might.”
Hunter nodded slowly as relief suffused his features. “Yeah. I get that. Obviously, because I feel the same way. I’m sorry for being weird, too. That last thing I want to do is push you too far. Or push you at all.”
I drew back to look at him, the morning light slanting through the kitchen window and catching in the strands of his hair. I didn’t know what this thing between us was exactly, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel scary to want something. It felt like maybe Ishouldwant this.
“Thank you for being here for me,” I said softly.
He gave a quiet smile, a little sheepish. “Well, you make it hard not to. Especially since you’re always there for me, too.”
I let out a breath that might have been a laugh, but maybe also a sigh of relief. “You’re dangerous, Cassidy.”
He tilted his head, lips tilting up at the corner. “I’ve been told.”
We stayed like this—close, quiet, no pressure.
“This is nice,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “It is.”
“I don’t know what I want yet,” I whispered. “No, that’s not it. I’m not sure I even know how to want anything anymore.”
“That’s okay. I don’t either.”
“I just know I don’t want to fight whatever is going on with us, and I don’t want to hide from it anymore.”
His hand found mine, fingers lacing through mine loosely.
