“What’s at the finish line?”

“I guess we’ll have to get there to find out.” When she moved around me again, I let her go. God knows I didn’t want to so badly my body almost quivered, but I did it. That was a victory on its own.

Not even two minutes later, I heard Colt’s truck fire to life. If trust felt like that every time I had to prove it to her, I didn’t doubt it would be the death of me.

JOSIE HAD GOTTEN home an hour ago. I felt like a third parent when I checked the clock as that sorry excuse for a truck rumbled up the driveway. After helping Mr. and Mrs. Gibson clean up after dinner—something both of them seemed confused by—I’d taken a shower and crawled into bed. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was incapable of sleeping with Josie out where she was. I probably should have just run circles around the guest room. That would have been a better distraction from my thoughts than just lying quiet and motionless in bed.

I was close to throwing off the covers and starting my first lap when Colt’s truck pulled up. Speaking of clocks, it was only ninety seconds before Josie came through the front door. A minute and a half wasn’t long enough to get anywhere close to hot and heavy inside of Colt’s truck, so I exhaled my second relieved breath of the night after Josie left. Being the parents they were, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson were still waiting up. After a couple minutes, I heard a series of goodnights as footsteps headed down the hall and one set up the stairs.

I wanted to see Josie. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to hold her like I had last night. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted so much right then. I don’t know if I’d ever “wanted” so much in my life.

Josie’s bedroom door closed long before I finally felt sleepy. All of that adrenaline took a while to wear off, but once it did, I felt more like I was drifting into a coma instead of sleep. That was when my bedroom door whispered open so noiselessly I was surprised I noticed it. When I saw who slipped inside, I wasn’t so surprised I noticed it. Welcome back, adrenaline. It’s been a while. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, and watched Josie approach in a different but similar pair of “pajamas.”

“It’s not a dream,” she whispered, smiling at me. I must have looked confused. “That look on your face? It looks like you’re trying to decide if this is real or a dream.”

“The past twenty-four hours have felt like a dream. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t anymore.” Josie sat on the edge of the bed, and the moment caught up with me. I could almost imagine a shotgun racking. “What are you doing in here?”

“I can’t sleep.” She clasped her hands and shrugged.

“Do you want me to make you a warm cup of milk or something?” I wasn’t sure how Josie went about falling asleep when she had a hard time getting there, but I was certain she didn’t use the same methods I usually did: a woman or a bottle of whiskey. Most nights, both.

“Thanks, but no. I wish a warm cup of milk would work. I’d actually be able to get more than a few hours of sleep every night.” She was trying not to look at me—probably because I was half naked and we were beside each other on the same bed. I lowered the blankets a few inches to make it that much harder for her.

“Are you an insomniac or something?” I grinned when she finally lost the battle and glanced at me. Not at my face either.

“I think I get a whole half an hour more sleep than a true insomniac, but I’m as close to being one as I want to get.”

“Have you always had that problem?” I didn’t like knowing something I couldn’t fix was bothering Josie. If a genie magically appeared and granted me one wish, I’d have insomnia made into human form so I could give it a serious ass-kicking.

“No. I used to sleep so hard I could snooze through a fire alarm.” She shifted so she was facing me more.

“So when did you and sleep decide to become long lost friends?”

She studied her hands in her lap. “A couple of years ago.”

I didn’t need her to clarify the month, day, or hour. Because I knew. I knew what event and person was responsible for Josie’s insomnia. I wanted to kick my own ass? How was that even possible? I didn’t know, but if there was a way, I would figure it out. “Ah, hell, Joze. I’m a piece of shit. I don’t know why you’re even talking to me. I’ve screwed up so many things for you.”

“Well . . . actually . . .” She bit her lip, acting almost shy. Josie did shy about as often as I did humble.

“Well actually what?” I asked eagerly. I’d do anything.

“Last night was the first night in two years I fell asleep and stayed asleep for close to six hours.”

When she looked at me again, I got it. I mean, I didn’t get it exactly, but I knew how to help. I might not have understood why Josie could sleep with me beside her, but I didn’t need to know why to fix the problem. Scooting over, I threw open the blankets and patted the mattress. “Come on over. I warmed a spot up for you already.”

She didn’t need a second invitation. Josie had wiggled and wormed her way under the covers before I realized that, for the second night in a row, I was sharing a bed with Josie Gibson. If the young boy version of me could have expected that, growing up would have been a few shades brighter. “What are your parents going to think? Or do?”

“They’re not going to think or do anything because they’re going to wake up tomorrow none the wiser.”

“You are one devious vixen, Joze.” Once she was curled up, I draped my arm over her and slid up beside her.

“Are you still in your jeans?” Her hand grabbed the waist of my jeans and gave it a tug. “Do you ever take these things off?”

I couldn’t form thoughts, let alone words, with her hand skimming my waist. When her fingers reached the button above my fly, her hand froze before dropping away. I breathed again. Clearing my throat, I worked up something that I hoped would be coherent. “When you grow up never knowing if you’re going to be jerked awake by bottles shattering around you, you keep your pants on and your boots close by. I’ve spent as many nights sleeping under the stars as I have under a roof.” Josie’s hand slipped into mine, her fingers lacing with mine. “How was Colt’s?” A better man might have kept his mouth shut, but I hadn’t gotten where I had by being a better man.

“Uneventful. He didn’t lure me into his bed like I know you were convinced he would.”

I’d already guessed that, but I still exhaled in relief. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try to.”

“No, it doesn’t mean that.”

Imagining Colt trying to get Josie into his bed sent me close to the explosion point. The only thing that kept me from jumping out of bed and driving to Colt’s just so I could throw his mattress out his window was Josie’s touch. It took a minute or two before I was calm enough to form words. “So? Did I pass the trust test?”

“You passed it. With flying colors. I have to admit I didn’t think you could do it. I kept looking out the Masons’ living room window expecting to find your truck barreling up the driveway.”

“I came close. I must have stopped myself from running through that front door a hundred times. But I didn’t, and that’s what counts.” Josie’s feet bumped mine, and I practically jolted from how cold they were. She was worried about me getting frost bite? So I gritted my teeth and pressed the tops of mine—which were toasty warm—into the bottom of hers. If the girl didn’t run around in lingerie in the dead of winter, her feet might not have been mini glaciers with toes.

“You’re kind of great, you know that?” She sighed and wiggled her toes over mine.

“I don’t know if this is greatness or stupidity, but I’ll take any compliment you want to send my way.” So, yeah. My feet had been warm. Not anymore. But hers were at least. “Since I passed the trust test, mind telling me why you went over to Masons’?”