6.Danny

So, this is what having a huge, damn crush feels like? Jane's sitting next to me, wrapped in my old robe, sipping coffee and laughing at my stupid jokes as if she actually think I'm funny. I can't help but feel a twinge of something deeper, something that makes me want to pull her closer.

Close enough to kiss her.

I glance at her, noting the way the dim light plays on her damp, blond hair and the curve of her smile. The thought of kissing her flits through my mind, but I push it aside. I don't want to corner her. We've only just met, after all. Still, the urge to close the distance between us is almost overwhelming.

There's a moment of awkward silence, and I clear my throat, searching for something to say. "If you want, you can take a shower. I've got hot water. Might help warm you up a bit more."

Jane's eyes light up, and she nods. "That sounds amazing, actually."

"Sure thing," I say, standing up. "I'll find you something else to where in the meantime."

"The robe's fine. I love it…"

Yeah, but the lapels are too loose and every time she moves, I catch a hint of the curve of her breast. And a pale-pink nipple.

"No, no…," I mutter, wincing when I grow harder than I've probably ever been in my life. "I definitely need you to wear something else."

She frowns in confusion, but then shrugs.

I rummage through my drawers, looking for something that might fit her. I settle on a pair of old but clean sweatpants and a soft, worn T-shirt. As I lay them out on the couch, I catch myself thinking about how much I like having her here, how much I don't want her to leave.

The sound of the shower stops, and a moment later, Jane steps out, wrapped only in a towel. My heart squeezes in my chest. She's stunning, her skin glowing from the warmth of the shower, her hair tumbling in loose waves around her shoulders. She catches my eye, and I see a hint of shyness in her expression that only makes her more endearing.

"I found this for you," I manage to say, gesturing to the couch. "They're clean, I promise."

She smiles, a soft, grateful smile that makes my pulse quicken. "They look super-comfy."

As she crosses the room to get dressed, I turn away, giving her some privacy, but it's hard to ignore the way my heart races. I hear her moving behind me, the rustle of the towel and the soft sounds of fabric.

I swallow hard, and squeeze my eyes. Squeeze my fists when the thought of holding her body in my hands becomes too much.

When she's done, she taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to face her. The clothes are too big, but she looks beautiful, radiant even, in their simplicity. The oversized T-shirt falls to mid-thigh, and she's rolled up the sleeves of the sweatpants to keep them from dragging.

"These are perfect," she says, looking down at herself with a small laugh.

"Glad they fit," I reply, my voice a bit rough around the edges. I clear my throat. "You hungry? I can whip up something quick."

"Starving," she says, settling back onto the couch.

As I move around the small kitchen area, preparing a simple meal, I steal glances at her, wondering how someone like her ended up here, with someone like me. The ease with which she fits into this place, into my life, makes me feel like she's the missing piece in a puzzle I didn't even know I was concerned with.

Dinner's a casual affair, and we talk and laugh as if we've known each other forever. But as the evening wears on, I feel a growing reluctance to see her go. The idea of this night ending, of her walking out the door and back to her life, feels wrong. And it's not about the fact that life can get lonely out here. It's her. Just her.

As we finish eating, she leans back with a contented sigh. "This has been really great."

"I'm glad you came," I say honestly. "It's not often I have company out here. Especially not company I enjoy this much."

"Sure hope so," she teases and her eyes glitter with mirth. "I like to think I'm special."

She is, that she definitely is. And I'd kill to have her spend the night.