Page 98 of Closer

“Don’t call me that. Makes me feel like I’m back in school.”

“What, you don’t like it when I get all professorial on you?” I waggle my eyebrows at her, trying to coax another smile.

“Are you going to punish me next because I forgot my homework?”

“Depends. Do you want to be punished, princess?”

We both freeze. Fuck. Me and my big mouth. “Lil, I—”

A loud buzzing interrupts whatever I am about to say to earn back brownie points. She fumbles for her phone, pulling it out of her pocket with shaking hands.

“Sorry, I should… It might be work.” She shoots me an apologetic look before swiping to answer. “Hello?”

My fingers drum lightly on the table, a weak attempt to steady my racing pulse. An attempt not to let the disappointment consume me. We were so close. So fucking close to something.

I don’t know what. A confession? A reconciliation? A chance to start over?

Maybe all of the above. Each would have been a start. A good start.

She paces the kitchen, her brow furrowed, listening to whoever’s on the other end of the line. Probably Mary or Gemma, checking in. Making sure she’s okay.

Making sure I haven’t fucked up already.

I scrub a hand over my face. This push and pull, this constant dance around each other… it’s wearing me down. Wearing us both down.

I want her. All of her. The good, the bad, the in-between. I want lazy mornings, heated arguments, and inside jokes. I want to be the one she turns to when she’s scared or sad or pissed off. I want to be her person.

But I don’t know if she wants that too. If she’s ready for it. Ready for us.

She ends the call with a sigh, tossing her phone on the counter.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah. it was just Levi asking how I’m doing.”

After we finish eating, we move around each other in the kitchen, putting away leftovers and wiping down counters. It’s easy, comfortable. Domestic in a way I never thought I’d crave.

But with her, everything feels different. Better.

She stifles a yawn and hangs up the dish towel.

“You should get some rest,” I say. “It’s been a long day.”

Her eyelids droop. “Yeah, I think I will.” She pauses, then turns to go. “Night.”

“Night.”

I wait around two hours before I grab my keys and slip out of the apartment, careful not to make too much noise.

The drive to her place is short but feels like an eternity. Is this a good idea?

I don’t want to fuck up. Again.

I park and make my way up. I know what I’m looking for, and I find it easily enough. It’s right where we left it, tucked away in the corner of her bedroom.

I run my fingers over the smooth metal, remembering the way her face lit up when she first showed it to me in college.

It’s one of the few things she has left of her mother.

---