That night… they didn't plan it.
It just happened, Babe.
The highway was almost empty by the time they finished dinner.
The clock on Keifer's dashboard read 2:14 a.m.
Jay leaned her head against the window.
"You're tired," she murmured.
Keifer glanced at her.
"So are you."
Neither of them said let's go home.
The silence between them already knew the truth.
He slowed near a small, quiet hotel at the edge of the road.
Not the same one.
A softer one.
Dim lights.
Sleep written into the walls.
Keifer parked.
For a moment, neither moved.
"If we drive now…" Jay said slowly, "…we'll reach by morning."
He nodded.
"And we'll both walk into meetings pretending we slept."
She smiled faintly.
That soft, honest smile he never learned how to defend himself against.
"Let's not pretend tonight."
That was all it took.
—
The room was simple.
Two lamps.
A wide bed.
Curtains half open to the dark road outside.
No awkwardness.
Just a quiet heaviness settling into their bones.
Jay slipped off her jacket and placed it on the chair.
Keifer loosened his watch and set it on the table like he always did before sleeping.
Still careful.
Still respectful.
Still them.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
He stood near the window.
For a few seconds… neither knew what to do with how close this suddenly felt.
Not dangerous.
Just real.
Jay broke it softly.
"I've never… stayed out like this."
He turned.
"Because of your father?"
She nodded.
"He trusts me."
Keifer's voice dropped.
"So do I."
The words weren't meant to be heavy.
They became heavy anyway.
Jay looked down at her hands.
Then, quietly—
"I feel safe with you."
Keifer didn't answer immediately.
He walked closer.
Stopped in front of her.
Not touching.
Just close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"That's… not something I take lightly."
She looked up at him.
Their eyes met.
Long.
Uninterrupted.
No rush.
No pull.
Just something steady and frightening in how right it felt.
Jay moved first.
She lay back on the bed.
Still fully dressed.
Still guarded in small ways.
Keifer hesitated.
Then lay beside her.
Not facing her.
Not touching her.
A careful distance.
Respect.
But when the lights went off, the room felt too quiet.
Jay whispered into the dark—
"Keifer?"
"Yeah."
After a second, she turned.
Her fingers brushed his sleeve.
Not his hand.
Just his arm.
Testing.
He didn't move away.
So she rested her head lightly against his shoulder.
He inhaled sharply.
Once.
Slowly.
Then relaxed.
His hand shifted.
Stopped just near her wrist.
Not holding.
Just there.
They lay like that.
Two people who had shared everything except this kind of silence.
Minutes passed.
Then—
"I don't want this to ruin what we have," Jay whispered.
It was the fear she never allowed herself to say out loud.
Keifer's voice came just as quietly.
"It won't."
"How do you know?"
Because he already did.
"I won't let it."
That was not a romantic promise.
That was a protector's one.
Jay closed her eyes.
And for the first time in her life…
she fell asleep somewhere that wasn't her home—
without feeling like she needed to be alert.
Without listening for danger.
Just breathing.
Just warm.
Just safe.
That night, they didn't go home.
And somehow…
it became the softest beginning of something neither of them was ready to name yet.