Page 57 of Mountain Boss

My heart beats once. Twice. Three times.

“What?” I whisper.

I flex my fingers into my blanket.

Soft.

Squishy.

“What?” I say it louder.

I shift my weight around.

The surface under my hands shifts with me.

“What?” My voice cracks this time.

I scramble off the step stool and flip my blanket back.

There’s another blanket.

Another blanket.

That too-familiar feeling of tightness behind my eyes starts to build.

My hands start to tremble as I grip the edge of the new blanket and pull it back.

A huff that sounds too close to a sob leaves my mouth.

Because I’m looking at a mattress.

A mattress covered with a fitted sheet.

A mattress with several inches of padding.

I lay my hand on it.

It’s still there.

I put my other hand on it.

The mattress squishes beneath the pressure.

A laugh spills out of me as I bend and press my face into it.

I have a mattress.

I straighten back up.

I have a mattress.

After three nights of sleeping on that fucking board, Sterling gave me a mattress.

The smile I hadn’t realized was stretched across my face falters.

Why now?

I run my hands over the sheet.

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