CHAPTER 129
**WINTER**
I sigh, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.
I lie down, closing my eyes for a moment, silently hoping—praying—that he won’t leave. That he won’t pull away like he always does.
I brace myself for it, for the inevitable moment when he pushes me back and tells me we can’t be friends, that this—whatever this is—can’t happen. That I’m a liar. That he hates me. The same tired, cruel words, over and over. Blah, blah, blah.
But he doesn’t.
He stays. And for now, that’s enough.
So I inch closer, pressing my front against his, until there’s nothing between us but heat and the tension crackling in the air. His body is solid, every ridge of muscle firm beneath my touch. He lets me hold him, doesn’t resist when I wrap myself around him, and even rests a hesitant hand on my waist.
My body starts to relax, my limbs growing heavier, my head dipping as exhaustion pulls at me. It must be the meds Jenny gave me—the ones she promised would help me sleep.
I sigh again, burrowing deeper into his warmth, my grip tightening as if holding onto him might keep the rest of the world at bay.
I don’t tell him this, but if I could stay like this forever… I would.
Apparently, Zion doesn’t feel the same, because just as my eyes begin to close, he shifts, his hands pressing gently against my shoulders, easing me away from him until I’m at arm’s length.
“I should, um… go,” he mutters, his voice rough, unsure.
I blink up at him, my head swimming. “I don’t want you to go,” I yawn, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
“Snowflake…” His tone is low, edged with warning, but I don’t feel scared. I never feel scared with him.
Because this is Zion.
The real Zion. Not the cold, untouchable version he pretends to be for the world. This isn’t the boy who pushes me away, who wears anger like armor.
This is the boy who kissed my scraped knees when I fell. The boy who stuffed ants in my pants just to make me scream. The boy who laughed so hard when I cut my own bangs that I swore I’d never pick up scissors again.
My chest tightens, the memories flooding through me like a tidal wave, crashing over all the walls he’s built between us.
“Please?” My voice is barely a whisper now, my exhaustion making it harder to hold back what I really feel.
“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to hate me. Can we just… be friends again?” My throat tightens, the words thick with emotion.
“I miss you, Zion. I miss you so much.”
As sleep pulls me under, I nuzzle closer into his warmth, my fingers weakly gripping his shirt. My words come out soft and drowsy, slurring together between yawns.
“You’ve been so mean… super mean… to me…” I mumble, my voice heavy with sleep.
“Since I came here… you made me cry…” Another yawn escapes, my lashes fluttering shut.
“Sometimes… I wanted to get back at you…” I whisper, barely audible as my head grows heavier on the pillow.
“Like… putting itching powder on your bed... and your pants... I even bought it…” A yawn breaks my sentence, my body sinking deeper into the mattress.
“But… didn’t get the chance…” I yawn again, the words trailing off as sleep starts to take over.
“But…” I barely manage, feeling his warmth against me, “But… I still miss you, Z…”
And with that, I drift off, the words lost in the quiet of the room.
I think I hear him sigh, his fingers brushing lightly through my hair. And then, just as I’m slipping into dreams, I swear I hear him murmur,
“Itching powder hey? God, you’re adorable… if only you weren’t a liar… if only…”
But maybe I imagined it, because by the time I try to open my eyes again, the comforting weight of sleep has already pulled me under, wrapping me in its soft, dreamless embrace.
..........
“Winter, sweetheart, how are you feeling?”
The voice startles me, and my eyes fly open.
“W-what?” I croak, still half-asleep.
“The fuck?” Zion grumbles beside me just as Jenny calls out again.
“Winter?”
Shit. Shit.
I bolt upright, my heart hammering.
“Zion, wake up! Your mum—”
“Winter, sweetie. Are you awake?”
Fuck.
His eyes snap to mine, wide with panic.
I dart a look around my bedroom, my pulse racing.
“The bathroom,” I whisper urgently. “Go hide in the bathroom!”
Zion mutters a curse under his breath, but I’m already shoving at his shoulder, trying to push him out of bed.
“If you hadn’t begged me to stay, I’d be in my own fucking room right now,” he whisper-shouts, yanking his jeans off the floor.
“Oh, please, like you didn’t want to stay,” I hiss, scrambling to smooth down my hair as he pulls his t-shirt over his head.
Wait… when did he even take that off?
His glare burns into me for a second before he ducks into the bathroom, just as Jenny’s footsteps grow louder.
“Win—”
“Coming!” I call quickly, rushing to the door before she can open it herself.
The second it swings open, I plaster a smile on my face, praying I don’t look like a girl who spent the night tangled up in her son’s arms.
Jenny studies me with soft concern. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard voices.”
My brain scrambles for an excuse. “Oh, um—I was on a video call with my mom,” I say quickly.
“She woke me up.”
Her brows pinch. “Oh... did you tell her what happened?”
“No.” My voice is firm, but I soften it with a small smile. “She’s already got too much on her plate. I don’t want her to worry.”
Jenny sighs, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You’re a good girl, Winter.”
I force a smile, nodding as if I don’t have her half-naked son hiding in my bathroom, probably cursing my name.
“Anyways, are you feeling a little better this morning? Did you get a good night’s sleep?”
“The best…” I mumble, still half-dazed.
“Yeah? You slept pretty well?”
“Yeah, quiet well…”
“That’s good to hear.” She smiles, but there’s a teasing glint in her eyes.
“I figured you’d slept well because you were out like a light. It’s almost eleven.”
Eleven.
Crap.
“Anyway, I brought you coffee.” She steps closer, her tone softening.
“Your father and I thought we could all have breakfast together.”
“Dad... he’s here?” My heart skips, a sudden knot forming in my stomach.
“What happened... I mean with E-Ethan?”
“Hey, relax, sweetheart,” she says gently, noticing the tension in my shoulders.
“Don’t worry about Ethan. Your dad’s got it under control, okay? I’m just about to go wake Zion. Your dad mentioned he didn’t stay at the warehouse, so he must be here.”
“N-no,” I blurt out, panic rising. “I’ll do it.”
“What?” Her eyebrows furrow, but I’m already shaking my head, trying to control my breath.
“I mean... I can wake him....if you want....”
She pauses, her expression softening as she thinks it over. Then, with a smile, she nods.
“Oh, okay... thanks.”
“No problem. Just give me ten minutes, then we’ll be downstairs.”
She steps closer, cupping my cheek in her hand, her touch warm and comforting.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Winter. I know I’m not your mom, but you mean a lot to me. I hope you know that... and maybe one day—”
Just then, my phone blares from the nightstand, interrupting her words. She drops her hand, and I glance down at the screen, thankful for the distraction.
“It’s probably Claire,” I say, feigning nonchalance.
“I cut her off earlier when I was talking to Mom,” I lie smoothly, my stomach twisting.
“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it then. And please, tell that son of mine we expect him at the table whether he wants to be there or not.”
“I will.” I offer a strained smile as she turns and heads down the hall.
I wait until her footsteps fade before I close the bedroom door, inhaling a shaky breath. That was too close. Far too close.
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