“Oh yeah. He told me that when the bride and groom kiss for the first time, everyone stands on their chairs and yells fuck to celebrate.”

Clarke’s eyes widened, his lips twitching with a smile. “You didn’t. There is no way you hauled your little ass up on your chair and yelled fuck.”

“Oh, but I did. Two or three times if the version of the story my dad tells is right. Apparently, I started a chant with my drunk uncle.”

Clarke laughed hard, shaking his head as he looked at me. “Your mom must have been mortified.”

“She banned Tyson from doing laundry at home for nearly three months.”

“That explains why we spent a lot of time in a laundromat when we were eighteen. I should probably thank you for that. The owner liked to sell us stale beer.”

Leigh pretended to gag. “That’s nasty. Stale beer is what you settled for?”

“Stale beer was my lifeblood.”

She smirked and reached out to run her fingers through my short beard. “Now look at you. I have a hard time believing you would ever go for stale beer now.”

I closed my eyes as her fingers continued to rake through my beard. It was soothing. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had sat beside me and been openly affectionate. Most of the women I had been around only behaved like Leigh if they were posing for a camera.

“I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t go anywhere near stale beer even if I was dying of dehydration.”

Leigh laughed as she leaned closer to me, her fingers falling away. She nestled into my side, her head on my shoulder.

“What are we doing?” she whispered softly.

“I don’t know,” I said, running my fingers through the ends of her hair. “Does it need a name right now?”

“I don’t think so, but this also doesn’t feel like a one-night stand either. You intrigue me.”

I looked down at her, noticing for the first time the freckles that ran across her nose and cheeks. Her dark eyelashes rested on her cheeks as she pressed closer to me. She was beautiful in an understated way. Not once since she walked through the doors had she bothered to try to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. It was refreshing.

“I wouldn’t be upset if I took you on a date,” I said as the first bright rays of sunlight started to creep through the open curtains. “Sun’s rising.”

“Looks like the rain’s over,” Leigh said, opening her eyes and blinking against the light. She rubbed her eyes and yawned again.

“Tell me something that scares you,” I said, wanting to extend our night together for as long as possible. I had promised her that I would leave once the rain stopped.

“My mom might have cancer.”

My world seemed to tilt on its axis as I watched a tear slide down her cheek. She reached up to wipe it away as quickly as it had come. I pretended not to notice, instead trying to find the words that would make her feel better. However, none of those words were coming to me.

“I’m sorry. My mom didn’t tell me the last time I spoke to her.”

Leigh shrugged and sat up, hugging her legs to her chest. She put her head on her knees and looked at me, her eyes watery as she held back more tears. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before she swallowed hard.

“That’s because your mom doesn’t know. My mom doesn’t want to tell anyone until she knows that she can beat it if it is cancer.”

I reached out to run my hand up and down her back, tracing patterns along her spine. She sighed and relaxed into my touch.

“I won’t tell anybody.”

“Thank you.”

My hand paused on her back. “How did you guys start thinking that she had cancer?”

“She started getting really sick a couple months ago. At first, we didn’t really think anything of it. Mom’s always had a weak immune system. We liked to joke that there was never a flu she met that she didn’t catch.”

“I remember that. Winter always seemed to be the worst for her.”