I don’t answer right away because the truth surprises me.
“It made me want him more,” I admit quietly. “Not just emotionally. Physically. In a way I didn’t expect.”
Her eyes widen, not in judgment, but delight.
“Melissa,” she says gently, “you’re allowed to want sex.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I didn’t think it would feel like this. Like … my body already knows him.”
Kayla laughs softly. “Damn. That’s hot.”
I press my palms into the mattress. “I’ve never wanted someone like this before. Not even with Bryce. Not like this.”
The words hang in the air, heavy but honest.
Kayla studies me for a moment, then scoots closer. “That doesn’t mean you loved Bryce less.”
“I know,” I whisper. “It means this is different.”
“And new,” she adds. “And terrifying.”
“And exciting,” I admit. “Which might be the scariest part.”
Kayla grins. “So, do you want him?”
The answer comes easily. “Yes.”
Not because I’m lonely. Not because I’m replacing anything. But because my body and heart are both awake in a way they haven’t been in years.
Kayla claps her hands once. “Excellent. Then we proceed with confidence.”
I laugh despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“True,” she agrees. “But you’re also officially back in the land of desire, and I will not watch as you let it pass you by.”
I lean back against the pillows, a smile tugging at my mouth as the memory of his kiss resurfaces.
For the first time in a long time, wanting someone doesn’t feel like betrayal. It feels like possibility.
After Kayla finally leaves me alone, armed with a warning about “hydration” and “stretching” that I refuse to unpack, I wander into the kitchen and pour myself coffee. The first cup usually wakes my body, but that was already done the moment I thought about Colton.
Sunday has always been my decompression day. Laundry. Errands. Mental preparation for the week ahead. But today, everything feels suspended, like I’m waiting for something … or someone … that hasn’t arrived yet.
I check my phone without meaning to. Nothing. I tell myself not to read into that. He didn’t promise anything. Neither did I. Still, the absence feels loud.
I’m folding towels when my phone buzzes. My heart jumps embarrassingly hard.
Colton: Did you make it inside okay last night?
I stare at the screen longer than necessary before answering, trying to control my erratic heartbeat.
Me: I did. Eventually. I might’ve stood in my doorway for a minute, just … thinking.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Colton: Good. I was hoping you would.
Heat curls low in my stomach.