Feels Like - Gracie Abrams "Met you at the right time,this is what it feels like."

The feeling of him pulling me back into him as I'm half asleep, letting a little 'mmm' slip out with his face tucked into me. Our bodies tangle into each other as he slides one of his legs between mine, keeping me as close to him as possible. The warmth coming from him made up for the lack of clothes we had on.

We lie there for a while, in and out of sleep, sharing gentle touches occasionally; he'd slide his hand up and down my thigh a few times and then fall back to sleep or kiss the base of my neck slowly. I'll never understand how he's real.

"I have to pee so bad," he mumbles into me. His morning voice is extra raspy, and despite him being a little too honest, it really is adorable. I just quietly laugh at him as he tightens his grip around me.

"You should probably go take care of that," I whisper back, trying not to laugh more.

He lets out a long breath against me, "I'd have to stand up, and that just sounds awful."

"Yes, but if you pee on me, I'm never letting you live that down," I tell him, making him laugh.

"Alright, alright," he groans. "But, don't move– I'm coming right back." He leaves a kiss on my shoulder before sliding out of bed. I turn around to watch him as he just pulls on a flannel, his legs still fully on display from how short his boxers are. It's hard to believe that no girl has tried to get with him; he is effortlessly gorgeous.

Once he's left the room, I grab my phone, unlocking it to see the dreaded email from my boss that I knew I would be receiving. We've been going back and forth the past few days trying to figure out what I'm doing. To be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing. Not cooperating with your job is what you're doing. Be so for real, Char.

Knowing I'd probably regret my choice, I decided to open his reply.

'Charlotte-I've been trying to be as flexible as I can with you, and I understand that you're technically doing work—I can't stress how much this isn't an option for you. You were hired as an in-office employee. Now, I know you're still grieving, but our bereavement days are only supposed to be for immediate family members, and we are already letting that slide for your friend, so I would really appreciate it if you were a little more cooperative. I need you to figure out a return date within the next week or so and give it to me by the end of the day.'

'Letting it slide for your friend,' the sting from that specific line, making my heart pound and my eyes start to well up. I can't cry right now; I doubt he meant it to be mean, Char. I don't care how he meant it; it hurts. She may as well have been family, in my mind. Now, the daunting task of how I'm supposed to go back into the office after all of this will plague my mind today.

My hands are shaking as I scroll up and down through the email. I swallow hard to try and stop the sadness that's forcing its way up my throat. I quickly lock my phone and toss it to the other end of the bed as the door to his room opens.

"I had a feeling you'd be up," his soft voice rang through the room. He looks so sweet, carefully walking over with two mugs full of coffee. I figured you would want this." He holds it out for me, his gaze finally meeting mine.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Thank you" comes out a bit more strained than I would have preferred. His eyebrows pull together. He sets his mug down on the nightstand and sits in front of me.

"What's going on?"

I shake my head, my throat feeling tight all over again.

"Hey," his hands gently rubbed my legs, "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

My eyes betray me as they well up. I set my coffee down with his, quickly wiping my eyes as the tears started to come out.

"It's a long story," I choke out quietly.

"I have time."

The tears instantly fall as I sit there in front of him, feeling like he wants nothing more than just to make sure I'm okay. My hands fly up to cover my face, feeling dumb for crying in front of him.. again.

His hands moved to my arms, gently pulling me towards him. He whispered, "Ooh, come here, honey."

Without hesitation, I crawled into his lap, resting my face against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me. We sit there for a few minutes like that before I finally decide to say it.

"Um.. my best friend passed away," I tell him, doing my best to keep it together enough to explain. "Her funeral was the day I came in to help and cried in your office." I can feel him take a deeper breath before saying anything.

"I can't even imagine," he says softly, "I'm so sorry." Resting his face against the top of my head.

"Yeah, it's just a lot." My heart aches, replaying the thoughts in my mind before I choke out, "I miss her so much."

"Tell me about her."

What? He— oh. I shift myself to face him, sitting in between his legs. He sweetly wipes underneath my eyes, his hands dropping to find mine.

"Her name is Cassie," I start. Telling him everything I could, how we met, and how she always made me laugh. The way she was so naturally beautiful and inspiring to watch exist. I was explaining how we would always end up spending the night at each other's houses because we would just get too caught up in talking. I found myself laughing at one point while explaining, even with tears still falling.

He held my hands the whole time. He listened so intently, keeping eye contact and only letting go when I needed one to explain something or if he was wiping a tear away from my face. He was everything I needed at that moment.

"She sounds wonderful," he says, softly squeezing my hand.

My eyes well up as I look at him, forcing out a laugh as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears from falling. She would have loved you. The look on his face makes it harder to keep it together, his eyes looking so concerned as more tears sneak out.

"She really is," I let out with a sigh, which swiftly turned into a laugh. "I swear I can hear her in my head half of the time."

He smiles for a second, "That's how you know she was a good one."

A tear falls and lands on his hand, feeling the little spray as it bursts against him. Pulling me out of the moment and realizing how close we are. He's so gentle the way he runs his thumb over my knuckles as we talk. He quickly pulled me into his arms, and as soon as he saw tears, there was no hesitation. My heart shakes at the thought.

"You know what," he starts, bringing me back to earth and gently squeezing my hands. Let me talk to Josh real quick. I have an idea." His eyes are soft, gazing all over my face.

"Can I know what it is?" I ask quietly. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead carefully.

"If I can make it happen, yes."

I grab the coffee he brought. It's questionably cold at this point, but I'm sipping on it anyway. Cass, I wish I could get confirmation from you or something. How am I supposed to know if you were right?

He leans against the doorframe and looks at me. "Okay, are you comfortable hanging out for a little bit?"

"I can."

"I'm going to go down to the bar for a few, and then I need to grab a couple things, and I'll be back," he says, talking faster than I think I've ever heard him speak. "If that's okay?"

I nod, "I might try to read a little then."

He wanders over to sit in front of me again, "are you positive?"

"Mhmm," I can't help but chuckle at him a little, "Do what you need to."

He gets dressed quickly, which is unfortunate for me, before walking over and kissing the top of my head.

"You promise you'll be alright?" he asks, squatting down in front of me and instinctively grabbing my free hand, looking up at me, waiting for an answer.

I can't help but laugh, "Yes, I'll be okay."

"There she is," he says, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

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After he left, I spent a few minutes debating whether to reply to my boss but choosing not to do that while I was still emotional felt like the right option. I curled back into his bed, holding his pillow close to me as I drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Hearing the door open, he was definitely carrying something when the thud of it hitting the door rang through the apartment. I crawled out of his bed and snuck out into the living room.

"Hi," I squeak out, feeling oddly excited to see him.

He turns around, a sweet little smile on his lips, "Hey you."

I wander over to the couch, pulling the throw blanket over me while he's putting things away.

"Okay, so, I got us some shitty food to make and some Downeast," He looks over at me, holding up his hand out of defense, "I can cook, but it just felt appropriate for today, alright?"

"Do you not have to work?" I ask, letting my eyebrows pull together as I stare at him.

He shakes his head, "That's why I went down early, so I could be free for the evening." He took the night off for me?

"You didn't have to do that!"

"No, I know," he says, his smile making my heart melt, "I wanted to."

He practically took the wind out of me with that statement. He wanted to..? He's far too nice to me. It's almost like I deflated but in a good way. Nobody has ever cared enough to do something like this.. Not realizing how zoned out I had been until his voice brought me back.

"Want to pick something to watch, hun?"

Something about the pet name always makes my body tingle. Last night probably didn't help. I know immediately what I want to watch, opening Hulu quickly.

He wanders over, handing me a drink.

"What's the verdict?" He asks, sinking into the couch next to me as I click play.

"John Tucker Must Die," I tell him, sipping on my drink before setting it on the coaster near me. I have to tell Josh how cute these are.

"I don't think I could tell you the last time I watched this," he admits.

"Really? We watch it—" I start to say, but being hit by reality again, "Um... Cass and I would watch it all the time when we'd hang out." It feels like he can tell that I am having a moment because he quickly grabs my hands.

"Well then, I apparently have been sleeping on a cinematic masterpiece!" He spits out, making me laugh. He sinks back into the couch, propping one of his legs up on the corner of the coffee table.

I was readjusting myself a little, partially for comfort but also because he was so close, and I didn't know what to do with my legs. He glanced over as I was trying to get situated, silently grabbing my ankle and pulling my legs over on top of his. There were those butterflies again.

The opening segment of the movie showcases how terrible John Tucker really is. Unfortunately, I have wasted plenty of dates on men like him.

"This dude sucks?" he mumbles.

Giggling quietly, "Well, you're not really supposed to be rooting for him, so I'm glad you think so."

A few minutes later, Scott Tucker, as we know—he is the better brother—shows up on screen. I look over at Jake. He's focused on the movie, but his hand is holding my leg, casually running it up my calf, and occasionally giving it a little squeeze.

Watching him for a minute as he's focused on the TV, I notice that his expression is naturally so soft. I lean forward, pulling some of the throw blanket over him, not realizing I had the bulk of it.

"Didn't mean to hog the whole thing," I giggle as I tell him. I was still trying to toss the excess blanket over him.

The way his eyes smile when he says, "Well, thank you." He grabs the edge of it, helping me before bringing his hand back to my ankle. How he keeps some form of contact is so funny to me. It's very clearly an absentminded thing that he does, and I won't argue that it isn't nice that he just wants to be touching me casually. It's a wildly comforting feeling that I didn't realize I enjoyed.

His giggles when John has the estrogen meltdown have my heart melting. Just the organic laugh out of him is such a nice sound, especially after earlier. I'll take any ounce of serotonin I can get. It takes me a few minutes to focus on the TV and not just look at him because I'd almost rather spend the entire movie watching his reactions.

"Yeahhhh .. been there, bud," he mumbles, as John is tripping over his words because Kate's in red lingerie. He looks over with an exaggerated scowl at me as I bark out a laugh.

"Hey now," I start, "You seemed to enjoy it!"

His mouth falls open, "Of course I enjoyed it? I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn't behind the bar fighting demons the entire time, you little shit."

"Oh, was it so terrible?" I tease him, trying not to laugh.

He grabs his phone, quickly swiping through our messages and clicking on one of the pictures I had sent. He turns it to face me and slowly blinks at me, "How was I supposed to be okay when you look like THAT?"

"Okay, maybe it was a little unfair," I let out through a laugh.

His eyebrows pull together, "A little? God, I was sweating, honey."

There's that pet name again, and I don't know what makes the butterflies show up, but they do every time. I pull myself closer to him. He looks over at me, lifting his arm for me to get closer to him.

Staying pressed against his side, his hand lightly drawing little circles on my arm while one of my hands found comfort on his stomach. Something about him, in general, just made me feel safe. The doom and gloom in my brain seemingly lessen when I'm around him.

I look up at him as Scott asks her to be his lab partner again, feeling my eyes well up a little. It's him, isn't it, Cass? Seeing the way his eyes light up at their interaction before glancing over to me.

"Oh?" He questions, his eyebrow popping up quickly.

"No, I'm fine," I laugh out, trying to blink the tears back into my body. "It's just sweet."

"It is," he says quietly, holding eye contact for a minute. I feel my heart start to pound as he stares at me. Why am I nervous, like we haven't kissed before? My eyes wander to his lips just for a second. He really does have such a pretty mouth. It's hard not to admire him when he's so close.

His stare drops to my mouth now. This is like the worst game of chicken we could ever play. A smile slowly pulls on the corners of my lips as he gazes at them.

Clearing his throat he starts to sit up, "Do you want some food?"

"Please, I'm shockingly hungry." I almost couldn't respond fast enough.

After a couple of minutes, I can't help but move into the kitchen with him.

"You know," I start, "it's really unfortunate that they never kissed at the end."

"You think so?" he glances over.

"Mhmm," I say, "You can't tell me you weren't waiting for it." Folding my arms over myself, waiting to see if he argues against it. Even though there's not a good argument against that.

"Mmmmm..." his voice gets quiet. " It probably would have been a good one, too, huh?" He leans against the counter, holding his hands out to me.

"I feel like it had to be, right?" I move closer, and he smiles as I take his hands.

"Maybe something like," he pulls me into him, "this?"

His hands held my jaw, pressing his lips into mine. Slowly, we moved against each other, my hands pressing against his chest. He lingers over my mouth for a second; his smile grows as he looks at me. Oh, oh no. The butterflies in my stomach go crazy as he smiles a breath away from me.

"Yeah, that would work," I mumble. We've kissed countless times at this point; I mean, we literally had sex less than 24 hours ago.. Twice even. Something about him today is making my body react differently.

The oven beeping scares the shit out of me and brings me back to real life as I flinch, still in his arms.

We fall back into our regular routine of telling each other little stories that we can recall as he makes food; I'm just physically present rather than watching him through Facetime. And it's not three a.m.

Not even eating could stop us from laughing about some ridiculous story he was telling me about him and his brothers as kids. I could listen to his stories all day, how he's so happy when he's talking about them.

"Should we watch your favorite now?" I ask quietly. "It is November now."

He beams over at me, "I'll never turn the opportunity down."

He steals my plate away from me once I'm done eating, putting all our dishes in the sink. I watch as he just takes care of everything without question, which only encourages those pesky butterflies. I didn't know who was in control of my body when I stood up, moving over to him at the sink.

"You can go get comfy if you want," he tells me, glancing over.

I shake my head at him, "Not yet."

His face was visibly lost, grabbing the towel from behind him to dry his hands off when he turned to me. I move into him, wrapping my arms around him.

"Oh?" he mumbles against me, pulling me tight into him. I soak in the feeling of his arms and chest against me; it's becoming one of my favorite feelings, and that's terrifying.

We just stood there quietly for a moment until I finally said what had been on my mind.

"Thank you," I whisper.

He leans back to look at me, "For what?"

"Everything," I start, "You didn't have to do all this for me, but.. I just really appreciate it." And you.

"Sometimes we need people, but we don't know how to ask for that," He tells me, his calm tone lacing the words. "You deserved this. I couldn't just send you to be home alone after that."

My throat tightens at his words, and I can feel my breathing get heavier; oh, he's–.

His hands rub my back a few times before sliding down the back of my arms; he giggles as he says, "C'mon, let's go so you can laugh at me for loving this movie too much."

Sitting back onto the couch but quickly fell into a more comfortable position this time, pulling a blanket over us and tucking his arm back around me. He's slumped against the arm of the couch, and one leg stretched out so I can lay against his chest. It's hard to focus on the movie when I'm listening to his heartbeat in one ear and feeling his hands holding onto me, with the subtle little thumb rubs to remind me that he's still there.

"This movie really is good, isn't it?" I mumble.

His chest vibrates as he giggles, "I'm glad you agree."

The warmth coming from him is comforting, but the sudden heaviness of his arms around me makes me look up. He looks so delicate as he's drifted off to sleep, sweet boy. I snug back into him, just enjoying the occasional little sounds of his breathing.

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The sound of the door opening startled me awake; I don't remember falling asleep. I saw Josh and Quinn sliding their shoes off and quietly walking through the apartment. I made eye contact with Josh, sitting up a little to acknowledge him.

"Hi," I whisper.

His grin shines even in the dark, "Well, hello there."

"I