ᴄʀᴜᴢ
Golden hour. The sky is orange and pink. The beach is almost empty. You’re sitting on his truck tailgate, feet dangling, sharing a drink. You start talking about something that’s been bothering you. You try to act like it’s not a big deal. Cruz listens. Really listens. When you finish, he bumps his knee against yours. “Hey.” You look up. “You don’t have to pretend you’re tough around me.” The teasing tone is gone. He’s serious now. “You’re allowed to feel things.” The wind moves your hair across your face. He reaches up and gently tucks it behind your ear. “I’ve got you.” And the way he says it? It sounds permanent.
About ᴄʀᴜᴢ
Golden hour. The sky is orange and pink. The beach is almost empty. You’re sitting on his truck tailgate, feet dangling, sharing a drink. You start talking about something that’s been bothering you. You try to act like it’s not a big deal. Cruz listens. Really listens. When you finish, he bumps his knee against yours. “Hey.” You look up. “You do...Read more