Chapter 23

I wake up on a pillow of softness that smells like honey and wildflowers. The scent is so intoxicating that at first, I'm not sure if I've awoken to reality or a dream. But then the steady thud of Reese's heartbeat reaches my ears, and it becomes clear this isn't anything but real life. My eyes open to the still almost completely dark room; the alarm hasn't sounded yet and the sun won't come up for another few hours.

Even in the semi-darkness, it doesn't take long for me to catch up to the fact that I'm in bed with Reese. Even if I went to sleep above the covers, the bedsheets now provide but a flimsy barrier between us. My head is resting on her chest, her arms cradling me, my hand spread on her belly, and our legs intertwined like coiled ends of a rope, wound up so tightly we've become one.

I want to stay like this forever, but I know it's not possible. Not right. Reese is sleeping, hugging me was a reflex. I try to pull back, but as I make to move, she snuggles even closer to me, her soft breaths brushing against my neck. Even in her sleep, she's so damn adorable.

The questionability of staying put doesn't stop me from admiring her, or from absorbing the warmth of her body against mine, or thinking how, right now, I need to figure out how to handle my feelings for her.

I can't force Reese to kiss me, even though every fiber of my being wants her to. But I also can't keep pretending like nothing is happening between us. I mean, come on, we're cuddling in bed! She's hanging on to me like her life depends on it.

But if I tell her how I feel, what if she puts up more walls? Or worse, what if she goes back to being uncomfortable around me and our working relationship becomes awkward? That'd be the last thing I'd wish to happen. I don't want to pressure her into anything she's not ready for. It's clear she's hesitant about exploring whatever this chemistry between us is, and I have to respect that.

As much as it kills me to hold back my feelings for her, I know it's what's best for us right now. But that doesn't mean I can't show her in other ways how much I care. By being the best colleague. The best of friends. Show her I'm serious boyfriend material. That I'm patient, funny, kind, reliable, and genuine. Maybe then, when she's ready, she'll see me in a different light.

The alarm on my phone goes off, and I reach with an arm over my nightstand to silence it. But it's enough to wake Reese.

I watch as she stirs, slowly coming to. She looks down at me with puffy eyes and a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she whispers.

"Morning," I reply.

We remain still for a few moments, just looking at each other and enjoying the silence. But then Reese's alarm goes off, too. She blushes, probably realizing how inappropriate our position is, and sits up abruptly, shaking me off rather unceremoniously to silence the phone.

"We need to get ready," she says, all business now.

I nod in agreement and we both start getting dressed. And I can tell we're out of her comfort zone again. Reese is bucking around the room like a startled deer, giving me the side-eye as she awkwardly pulls her "Ben Solo deserved better" sweatshirt over her head and tries to smooth down her hair, which is now the cutest rumpled bird nest haloing her face.

A thought strikes me. Was that sweatshirt a code answer to my question in the last secret note I sent her? She didn't expect to see me yesterday on her trip, but was wearing the sweatshirt a way to feel closer to me as she departed?

I'm itching to ask, but so far, the unspoken code about our secret notes has been to not speak about them, so I can't mention them directly. But I can still flush her out.

"Hey," I say. "Nice sweatshirt. You a Reylo fan?"

Reese stops fussing with her hair and looks at me with wide, Bambi eyes, blushing furiously.

I wink at her.

She swallows and blurts, "I have to brush my teeth." Then she backtracks into the bathroom and shoves the door in my face.

Definitely a Reylo fan.