Breathing becomes difficult. I have to remind myself to take each breath and then let it loose in a gush, a simple reflex becoming a chore. I feel like I’m a kid playing Hide and Seek, trying to stay quiet and not be found. The quieter and more inconspicuous I’m trying to be, the louder each exhale seems to sound.

Graham and Sydney are still whispering to each other, but Holden is totally silent. His fingers dip lower, tracing the inseam of my pants. They brush my clit, sending a bolt of electricity through my whole system.

I bite my bottom lip—hard—worried I’ll accidentally make a sound otherwise.

I’ve spent all day anticipating tonight. There’s already a frenzy built inside of me. Each teasing stroke of his fingers sends me closer to the edge. My heart races and keeping my breathing even is a struggle. I slip one of my hands under the blanket and grab his, stilling his movements.

Holden finally looks away from the screen, at me. I’m close, I mouth. Heat flares in his eyes, turning them almost navy.

I’m expecting for him to pull his hand away, but he doesn’t. We keep holding hands under the blanket. His thumb starts drawing circles on the back of my hand. That’s all I focus on.

Not the movie playing.

Not Sydney giggling.

Just those circles.

* * *

When my eyes open, I’m on the air mattress. I sit up straight and glance around, startled. The last thing I remember is sitting on the couch.

Sydney is in her bed, sprawled out like usual. I scramble for my phone, finding it set next to the air mattress. It’s just after one in the morning. Last I recall in the living room, it was ten something. I fell asleep, something I struggle to do under the best of circumstances. Passing out early and not in a bed is unheard of for me.

I glance at Sydney again before crawling out of bed.

I’m annoyed with myself. Disappointed. I spent all day anticipating tonight.

Once I’m in the hallway, I hesitate outside his door. Maybe he decided to go out after all. Maybe he’s asleep. I have no sense of when the movie ended or when Graham left.

My hand closes around the knob and turns. Holden’s room is dark; the only illumination is the moonlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains. I scan the room and my focus lands on the bed. There’s a large lump in the middle.

I close the door and tiptoe closer.

“Holden?” I whisper.

He sits up. “Cassia?”

“Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No.” A pause, where I hover and he stares. “Come here.”