BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM, ᵉᵛᵃⁿ ᵇᵘᶜᵏˡᵉʸ

054

Rylin stirred awake slowly, the faint glow of early morning sneaking past the curtains. Her muscles ached in that pleasant, familiar way that told her exactly how she'd spent the night—and who she'd spent it with. The steady rhythm of breathing at her side confirmed it before she even turned her head.

Buck was still asleep, one arm sprawled loosely across her waist, his face buried against the pillow in that ridiculous way he always did, like he could somehow smother himself into sleep more. His messy hair stuck up in a dozen directions, his bare chest warm against her skin.

She let herself linger in the quiet for a moment, eyes tracing the shape of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips. It had been weeks since they'd fallen back into this... whatever this was. Hookups, late nights, his clothes scattered across her apartment floor, her waking up in the safety of his arms again. But no one had really said the words. They hadn't defined it. And while part of her wanted to just enjoy it, the other part—the part that craved clarity—kept circling back to the question she hadn't dared ask yet.

Buck shifted beside her, groaning low in his throat as he blinked awake. His eyes met hers, a sleepy grin tugging at his mouth.

"Mornin'," he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

"Morning," she replied softly, unable to stop the small smile that spread across her lips.

Before she could think too hard about it, Buck leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers, lazy and warm. The kiss deepened quickly, the kind of slow-burning spark that only came with mornings like this. His hand slid up her thigh beneath the sheets, coaxing her closer. She didn't resist.

Rylin let out a quiet hum against his lips as Buck shifted, rolling halfway over her. Their kisses grew heavier, his tongue brushing against hers, his fingers tracing along her side in teasing patterns that made her shiver. She tugged lightly at his hair, pulling him down further, chasing the comfort of his mouth on hers.

They were supposed to be up. They were supposed to be getting ready for work. But Buck's lips on her neck and the way his body pressed so solidly against hers made her care a whole lot less about the clock.

By the time they finally pulled apart, both flushed and breathing harder than they should've been before sunrise, the minutes had ticked too far into the morning. Buck groaned when he rolled off the bed, running a hand through his messy hair.

Rylin sat up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist as she watched him dress. There was something strangely intimate about it—his back muscles flexing as he tugged his shirt over his head, the familiar sight of him slipping on his socks with practiced motions.

Her stomach twisted with the question again. It had been sitting in her chest for weeks, but now, in the quiet morning light, with him standing there like he belonged in her room... she couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Hey, Buck?" Her voice came out softer than she meant.

He glanced over his shoulder, tugging his shirt down. "Yeah?"

She hesitated, then forced the words out. "Are we... like, one hundred percent back together? Or are we just—" she waved a vague hand between them, "—doing this?"

Buck froze mid-movement. For a moment, silence filled the space between them, thick and heavy. Then, slowly, he turned back toward her, an expression flickering across his face that she couldn't quite read—something between surprise and certainty.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, his knee brushing against her thigh. His hand found hers, fingers curling tight. "Yeah. We are. I mean—if you'll have me. I don't want this to be... casual. Not with you. Not ever."