Page 55 of Simply Yours

A sharp sting pricked Caitlin’s eyes.

Oh.

Oh, Jason.

Her hands lowered, hesitant at first. Then, slowly, she threaded her fingers through his dark hair, stroking the soft, silky curls beneath her fingertips. His scruff brushed against her knee as he exhaled, a contented sigh escaping him.

“Where’s your hat?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

“Backseat,” he drawled, the word stretching lazily. “Didn’t wanna smooooosh it.”

She glanced over her shoulder—sure enough, his Stetson was tossed haphazardly in the back.

Jason sighed again, shifting slightly. “That feels nice,” he murmured. “Can I stay here forever?”

Caitlin’s chest ached as she ran her fingers through Jason’s hair, the silky strands slipping between her fingers like threads of a past she had never quite let go of. He was a mess—stubborn, infuriating, and sometimes completely impossible. And yet, she had wanted this. Wanted him. For so long.

The weight of his head in her lap sent something sharp and aching through her heart, twisting and burrowing deep. She could feel the heat of him, the tension still coiled in his muscles despite the exhaustion pulling him under. He wasn’t just drunk—he was unraveling, thread by thread, and she could feel it in every shaky breath he took.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “You can stay here—for a moment at least.”

Jason nodded slightly, his lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones as he let out a quiet sigh, his body sinking further into her. He was always so strong, so rigid, but here, now, he felt like something fragile. Something breakable.

She started the car, the silence wrapping around them like an old, worn-out blanket as she guided them down the deserted road. The gravel crunched beneath the tires as she pulled into the familiar driveway, and the past came rushing back with startling clarity.

A girl in braids and cut-off blue jean shorts sneaking through the high grass, giggling as she chased after the tiny kittens her friend had found. A teenage boy with flashing eyes—so stern, so serious—pulling her away from the bobcat, his grip tight on her wrist, his voice low and firm as he shielded her from danger.

Caitlin swallowed hard as the floodlight on the house flared to life, casting its harsh glow over Jason’s features. Time had changed him. Changed them both. But in the sharp angles of his face, in the furrow of his brow, she could still see that boy. The one who had been strong for everyone but himself.

Her gaze dropped to his hand where it rested beside his face, his fingers curled slightly, palm up. The scar was still there, a pale ripple in the meat of his thumb—the mark the bobcat had left behind.

Her throat tightened.

“Let’s go inside and get you into bed,” she murmured, her fingers brushing his hair gently, coaxingly.

Jason flinched slightly, wincing as he turned his face away from her touch. “No,” he rasped. “Too much. I just wanna stay like this.”

Caitlin huffed out a soft, nervous chuckle, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “I can’t stay like this, and it’s best we don’t sleep in the car.”

His hand shot out, clumsy but desperate, catching the fabric of her sleeve in his fingers. “Don’t leave me too…” His voice was raw, barely audible, but it sent a shiver down her spine.

Her chest tightened, her pulse stuttering.

“I’ll stay,” she promised, her voice softer now. “But you need to rest.”

Jason’s lips parted on a slow exhale, his eyes opening just enough to find hers, glassy and searching. “You too.”

She shook her head slightly. “Let’s get you inside.”

He hesitated, blinking heavily. Then, barely above a whisper, “Are you gonna run from me?”

The words sliced through her, cutting deeper than she wanted to admit.

She swallowed hard. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, searching. Doubting. And then, as if some part of him finally let go, he whispered, “I hope that’s true because I’d be lost without you.”

Her breath caught.

---