Page 49 of Burning Hearts
The lamp hummed behind me and the thermostat glowed as if watching.
He broke first, mercifully.
“Thanks for the map,” he said.
“Thanks for the knot,” I said, intentionally holding his gaze.
He tucked the cord back into my palm instead of pocketing it.
“Keep it,” he replied. “Insurance.”
My skin memorized the pressure.
“I’ll practice,” I said.
He started for the door and turned back to look at me. “Goodnight, Ellis.”
“Night, Cade.”
The latch closed and I stared at the door. The room felt suddenly too quiet, like it had been rearranged.
I cleared the desk. The paracord lay in a small, patient coil. I looped the knot again, slowly, exactly like he’d done. Then yanked the quick release and pretended the burning sensation in my chest was about rope.
My phone lit up with Beau’s pinned stories. Slow-motion confetti from yesterday, a poll about which finalist had the best merch table.
I drafted a text and hovered over it.
You left your pencil.
But he didn’t.
You’re bad for my concentration.
Too honest.
If we’re not kissing, can we at least look?
Delete immediately, send myself to horny jail.
I locked the screen before I could betray myself and set the phone face-down. Through the wall, the TV in the next room made one final noise then went silent.
I turned off the lamp and let the suite fall into darkness. I lay back and told my pulse to slow down, but it ignored me.
The paracord waited on the nightstand like a souvenir from his hands.
On the other side of the wall, a floorboard eased and creaked. Soft, ordinary.
Nothing.
I smiled into the dark for no reason I’d ever admit in writing.
Boundaries, I reminded myself.
Cade had drawn a line and trusted me to see it.
“I see it,” I told the ceiling.
Maybe saying it out loud would make it real.
