Chapter 25: Late-Night Comfort

Iris stretched out on the couch, lazily flipping through channels on Luke's television. The night air outside was cool, and the hum of the city was distant, leaving only the faint rustling of trees and the occasional sound of cars passing by. It had become almost a tradition for her to end up at his place after their night rides—neither of them eager to part ways just yet.

Luke's house had grown familiar, comforting even. The scent of cedarwood and something distinctly him lingered in the air, wrapping around her like a warm embrace. She absentmindedly played with the hem of her hoodie, one of Luke's that she had stolen after complaining about the cold weeks ago. It was far too big for her, the sleeves swallowing her hands whole, but she didn't mind.

The bathroom door creaked open, and she turned her head just as Luke walked out, towel-drying his damp hair. The loose gray t-shirt he wore clung slightly to his still-warm skin, and the sight of him looking so effortlessly soft and comfortable made something stir deep within her. She ignored it.

"You finally decided to smell decent?" she teased, raising a brow.

Luke scoffed, ruffling his hair as he dropped onto the couch beside her. "Excuse me, I always smell amazing."

Iris wrinkled her nose, playfully nudging him with her foot. "That's debatable."

He narrowed his eyes at her before, without warning, he lunged—wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her against him. Before she could even react, he buried his still-damp hair against her neck, making sure to rub the wet strands all over her.

"Luke!" she yelped, squirming against his hold, her hands weakly pushing at his chest.

He only laughed, his grip tightening. "What? You don't like the fresh scent of my shampoo?"

Iris groaned, trying to wiggle free, but he was much stronger. "You're worse than a puppy."

Luke grinned, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You love it."

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth of his body was undeniable. He smelled too good—like fresh soap and something uniquely him, something she couldn't quite name but had grown familiar with over the months.

Still tangled up in his hold, Iris sighed dramatically. "Are you gonna let me go, or am I supposed to just live like this now?"

Luke hummed as if considering it, then shifted slightly, adjusting their position so that she was still snug against his side. His arm remained draped over her waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes against the fabric of her hoodie.

"Comfy," he murmured.

She shot him a dry look. "You're ridiculous."

"You're warm," he countered, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

She wanted to argue, but truthfully, she was warm. He was warm. And after the cool night air from their ride, the couch and his body heat were far too cozy to resist.

Luke reached for the remote and flipped through channels until he settled on an action movie. It was one he had probably seen a hundred times, but he seemed content just watching, his fingers still idly toying with the ends of her curls.

Iris exhaled slowly, her eyelids growing heavier. "You're touchy, you know that?"

He chuckled, his voice a soft rumble against her ear. "Only with you."

Her heart gave an odd little flutter, but she ignored it, chalking it up to the exhaustion settling over her. Instead of responding, she allowed herself to relax further against him.

At some point, Luke shifted again, this time fully maneuvering them both until they were lying down on the couch. His arm remained wrapped securely around her waist, his face nestled into the crook of her neck.

Iris let out a quiet sigh, barely able to keep her eyes open. She should probably move—tell him to get up, that they should at least make it to the bed if they were going to crash—but the weight of his arm around her and the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest against her back kept her rooted in place.

Luke's breath was warm against her skin, his hold protective but gentle. She had never seen this side of him before—not the playful, teasing version, but this quiet, almost vulnerable one.

"Good night, sunshine," he murmured against her ear.

A small smile ghosted her lips. "Good night, Luke."

And just like that, sleep took her—safe, warm, and wrapped in the presence of the one person who made her forget, even for a little while, that time was slipping through her fingers.