He sat up, swiping his thumb and forefinger across his lids before opening his eyes. He reached for his cell and lit the screen. 1:17. He didn’t need to spy the missed call from Olivia a few minutes ago to know it was her knocking at the door.

He got up and headed across his apartment, clearing his throat and adjusting the only thing he was wearing, a pair of old boxers, so they weren’t gaping open as he greeted her.

He was still too sleep-ridden to attempt to guess what had brought her here when she was supposed to be over three hours away, but he was still relieved when he opened the door to find her beautiful face a wash of what could only be happiness.

“I know it’s late. I’m not even going to ask if I woke you.” She bit her lip, a wide, happy grin spreading across her face. “And I’ll apologize later. I just… I didn’t want to waste another minute.”

He pulled her in for a hug and pressed his lips against her temple as she stepped inside. “I’m glad you’re here. You know, you can always use the code so you’re not stuck in the hallway.”

“I used the other one to get in downstairs. But when I got up here, knocking felt more right.”

It wasn’t until he shut the door that he realized how dark it was in the room. He flipped on the overhead light and winced. There was a lamp on the side table next to the couch that hadn’t been on in more than year. He headed over and turned the switch. He was half-surprised it wasn’t burned out.

Still standing by the door, she read his thoughts and flipped off the glaring overhead light.

“Thanks. You, ah, want something to drink?”

“Sure. A glass of water would be nice.”

She followed him in and, as he filled two glasses, stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing a cheek against his shoulder blade.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” After setting the glasses on the counter, he turned and locked his arms around her, his body responding in more ways than just the warming in his blood. When she was near, he experienced a sense of being alive more profound than anything he’d felt before. The words I love you attempted to push their way out, but he held them back, not wanting them to get in the way of anything she had to say.

The water was still running. She flipped off the faucet and closed her hands over both sides of his face. “Thank you. For letting me go. For letting me do this when everything between us is so new. You have no idea what it means to me for you to just—I don’t know—to let me figure this out for myself.”