Percy Moore slipped through the gap with the kind of silence that shouldn't belong to a man his size. 6'3, broad-shouldered, a sprinter: all lean muscle and coiled power. He landed softly, barely a whisper against your bedroom floor, and let his duffel bag slide down to rest against your desk.

The clock on your nightstand read 5:03 AM.

He'd texted you from the tarmac: I'm landing this Tuesday, miss you., and you'd sent back a sleepy string of emojis and hope.

But now he was here.

And you were asleep.

Percy stood at the foot of your bed for a long moment, just watching. The pale blue light of early morning filtered through your curtains, catching on the curve of your cheek, the tangle of your hair across the pillow. You were curled on your side, one hand tucked beneath your face, the other reaching out toward the empty space where he should have been.

His chest ached.

4 months. 122 days since he'd watched you cry at the airport security checkpoint, since you'd pressed a necklace into his palm and made him promise to wear it. He hadn't taken it off since.

Many women want him, your friends liked to warn you. They didn't understand. Didn't understand that Percy Moore had looked at you in the 7th grade and simply stopped. Stopped looking, stopped wanting, stopped even registering the existence of anyone else. You were it for him. You'd always been it.

Percy moved around the bed slowly, purposely, letting his fingers trail along the footboard. The mattress dipped when he sat on the edge, and he watched your face for any sign of waking, a flutter of lashes, a twitch of your lips.

Nothing.

You were dead to the world, completely vulnerable, completely his.

Percy reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. His thumb traced the arch of your brow, the slope of your nose, the soft swell of your bottom lip.

"Wake up," Percy murmured, low and rough from travel.

You didn't.

His mouth twitched. The closest thing to a smile he ever gave anyone but you.

Percy hooked his hands beneath your arms and hauled you up in one smooth motion, not gently, not roughly, but with the kind of effortless strength that came from years of running wind sprints and lifting until his muscles burned. You yelped, half-asleep and completely disoriented, your hands flying out to grab at his shoulders.

"Who...Percy-?!!"

And then you were flush against his chest, your legs draped across his lap, his arms locked around your waist like a cage. He smelled like airplane and cold air and something else, something sharp and clean that was just him, the thing you'd been missing for 4 months.

"Hi," Percy said.

Your eyes blinked open, still hazy with sleep, and then you saw him. Really saw him. Blond hair mussed from the flight, blue eyes bright despite the exhaustion, that stupid handsome face you'd been dreaming about since you were 13.

"You're here," You breathed.

"I'm here."

"You're early. You said it's gonna be Tuesday."

"Couldn't wait."

Your lower lip trembled, and Percy's expression softened just a fraction, just for you. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," Percy said quietly. "I just...I needed to hold you. Been 4 months babygirl. That's too long."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried his face into your shoulder. He felt you smile against his hair.

"You're an idiot," You mumbled into his blond locks. "You could have just texted me to come let you in."

"And miss the chance to break into your room at five in the morning?" His voice rumbled through his chest, low and warm. "Not a chance, sweetheart. Now go back to sleep. You’ve got me for the whole summer."

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