Page 154 of Bend

My chest tightens at that. Because I know he does, he always has.

Not only when I’m useful, or making everyone laugh or keeping somebody else from spiraling. He notices the shit underneath too. When I’m tired. When I’m nervous. Even when I’m hiding behind being loud because being honest feels worse.

I swallow and hold his gaze.

“You’re being disgustingly sweet again.”

His thumb moves once against my side.

“I mean, I can stop.”

“No.”

The answer comes out too quickly.

His smile turns softer.

“Didn’t think so.”

I lean into him without really deciding to, forehead resting against his shoulder while his arm settles around my waist. He doesn’t turn it into anything bigger. Doesn’t start dissecting my childhood or demanding I tell him why compliments make me uncomfortable.

He just holds me.

For a minute, that’s enough.

Eventually he nudges my hip lightly.

“Play the chorus again.”

I lift my head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because now I know you’re listening.”

“I was listening before.”

“That was unauthorized lurking.”

He laughs softly. “Oh, come on.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

I narrow my eyes, anf pull away from him grabbing the guitar again before I can change my mind, settling back into the corner while Wolfe stays close enough that our knees touch.

“If you laugh, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Echo.”

“What?”

“Play.”

I glare at him for another second, then give in and settle my fingers over the strings.

The first chord feels louder now.