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“What?”
He shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, then turns and leans his back against the headboard. “Come snuggle.”
His chest is warm and comfortable when I lean my face against him. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed. When he holds a pacifier up to my lips, I stare at it for several seconds before I open my mouth and let him slide it in.
“Comfortable?”
I nod and look up at him, my heart feeling so full. He smiles and taps the tip of my nose. We stay like that for a long time, his hand stroking my back softly. My eyelids feel heavy, and when I can’t fight it any longer, I let them fall shut, knowing and hating that in the morning, he won’t be here when I wake up.
“Sweet dreams, my baby.” It’s the last thing I hear before I drift off to a deep sleep.
12
DANE
It kills me to leave her. I want to stay and hold her all night. Then I want to make her a healthy breakfast and feed her by hand before getting her ready for the day. If we weren’t at her mom’s house, I wouldn’t think twice about it, but the last thing I want to do is create more confusion and stress for her to deal with in the morning.
Reluctantly, I pull away and tuck the covers around her body. Something small and pink catches my eye from under her pillow. I tug it out, and every ounce of oxygen I have rushes from my lungs. It’s the Beanie Baby bear I got her when she was in high school. I searched high and low to find the pink one because it was her favorite color. Emotion swells inside me. She still has it. And not only that, but the fabric looks worn like she’s slept with it every night for the past twenty-two years.
After staring at the toy for several seconds, I set it next to her and lean over to kiss her forehead. Then I watch her like a creeper for way too long before I exit her room, closing the door as softly as I can behind me. I lock the front door before I leave. She deserves so much more than what I can give her, but the selfish side of me, the side that’s completely and hopelessly in love with her, doesn’t ever want to let her go.
I slept terribly. Even though I stroked my cock again when I got home, I was still restless and aroused. I’ll never get the memory of her swollen, wet pussy out of my mind. Bare, glistening, and pink. I wanted to bury my face in it and never come up for air. And her taste. Fuck. One hit, and I’m already addicted.
As soon as my alarm went off, I wanted to text her to see how she slept. I didn’t. I’ll wait a few hours to make sure I don’t wake her up. She needs her rest. I know dealing with her mom’s illness is exhausting for her. I wish I could help in some way.
My phone rings as I’m on my way to work, and my brother’s name pops up on the screen in my truck. Perfect. I need to talk to him.
“Hey, man. I was going to call you today. Are you in Seattle or on the road?”
Nash sighs. “I’m in California. Where traffic never fucking ends. Are you on your way to work?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Does something have to be up for me to call my only brother? Maybe I just miss my family and wanted to talk.”
I keep my focus on the road as I navigate through our small town. Nash has been doing a lot of calling just to talk lately, and I’m not sure what to think of it. He loved growing up in Pine Hollow, but when he turned eighteen, he joined the military and somehow got connected with a guy who owns a private security company. Damian Scott was looking for some special ops guys to join his team, and Nash fit right in. He loved it at first. He got to travel all over for work, and being the GQ model-looking guy he is, he met women wherever he went. But I get the feeling he’s tired of not having roots set down somewhere.
“Okay. You’re right. What do you want to talk about?”
“How’s Summer?”
I can hear the smile in his tone, and I roll my eyes. He knows how I felt about her twenty years ago, and he told me I was a dumbass for letting her go. When he found out she came back home to help her mom, he told me not to let her slip through my fingers again. Every time he’s asked me about her before, I’ve told him we hadn’t spoken. I can’t say that now.
“She’s, uh, she’s fine.”
He laughs, and I mentally give him the finger.
“Greer told me she was over at your house yesterday for a playdate,” he says smugly.
Fucking Greer.
“Yeah? Did Greer also tell you she’s been struggling with her anxiety and depression again, and she’s gone back to therapy?”
Every ounce of smugness is gone when he replies, “How long has this been going on? Is she okay? Has she harmed herself?”
My mood quickly sours at the topic. My sister drives me nuts, but she has a heart of gold, and she went through hell with her ex-husband. I hate that she’s still struggling with it.
“She didn’t tell me any of this stuff directly. I heard it from Austin. He found her in the parking lot of the bar having a panic attack, and I guess she confided in him. He’s been checking on her and encouraged her to start therapy again. I found out yesterday and haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet.”
