Page 98 of Hometown Touchdown
She exhales slowly, her gaze dropping to our joined hands. Her thumb traces mine, and for a moment, she’s quiet. Then, in a voice almost too soft to catch, she says, “Just keep holding my hand, okay?”
I lift her fingers to my lips. “Always. Whatever you need.”
The house is quiet again, the kind of stillness that settles deep after a big night. Brynn’s in my hoodie, barefoot in the kitchen, her hair down, her shoulders finally relaxed. She’s washing the last few mugs in the sink, even though I told her I’d do it. I lean against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching her.
There’s something about seeing her like this—unhurried, soft in the light glow of the pendant lamp, her expression loose with exhaustion and peace—that hits me right in the chest.
“I still think it’s wild how good they were with it,” she says suddenly, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Your parents. I didn’t know what to expect.”
I step closer and slide my arms around her waist from behind. She lets out a breath and leans back into me like she was waiting for it.
“You were brave as hell tonight,” I say against her temple. “The way you talked to them—clear, honest, calm... I know it wasn’t easy.”
She shrugs lightly, setting the towel down. “I didn’t want to cry. I thought if I could just explain it without choking up, it might feel less like something broken and more like…just a part of me.”
I press a kiss to her cheek. “Itisjust a part of you. And it doesn’t make you any less—”
“Don’t,” she says quietly, turning in my arms. “Don’t say it doesn’t make me any less of a woman. I know that. I just…I needed them to see it too.”
“They did.” My voice is gentle, but certain. “You should’ve seen my mom when you walked out to get their coats. She looked at me and said, ‘That girl is stronger than she even realizes.’”
Brynn exhales a shaky little laugh, one hand pressed to my chest. “She said that?”
“She did. And my dad…you know he’s quiet, but he nodded and said he’s proud of us.”
Her eyes shimmer a little, but not from sadness this time. Something warmer sits there now. Lighter.
“I was scared they’d look at me differently.”
“They just saw someone they already adored being real with them. You didn’t lose anything tonight, Brynn. If anything…you just became moreyou.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, forehead resting against mine. “You always know what to say.”
I grin and kiss her softly, lingering for a moment. “That’s because I love you.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”
We just stay there, tangled up in each other in the middle of our messy kitchen. No rush, no noise, no more weight pressing on her shoulders. Just the soft hum of the fridge and the way her thumbs stroke the back of my neck.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask after a beat.
She nods, pulling back just far enough to meet my eyes. “I’m better than okay. I feel… proud. And kind of exhausted.”
I laugh. “Then let’s call it a night. I’ll finish these.”
She arches a brow. “We both know you’re terrible at scrubbing mugs.”
I lean in close, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Yeah, but I’mgreatat taking you to bed.”
Her soft laugh fills the room, bright and easy, and when I reach for her hand, she doesn’t hesitate. We walk out of the kitchen together, fingers laced. She stops just before we start up the stairs.
“Wait, bring the pumpkin bars.”
I laugh, shaking my head. I step back into the kitchen, grabbing the tupperware from the island. I walk back and hand them to her. She raises on her toes, kisses my cheek and I smile. We’re still writing our story, on our terms.
Chapter forty-nine
Brynn
