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He didn’t want to be another hard thing in her life, another obstacle she needed to overcome. He didn’t want to be insurmountable for her. He wanted to be, in every possible way, mountable.
“I meant what I said, Mira. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to go. If it feels good being with me, then let it feel good. Let me make you feel good. Iwantto make you feel good.”More than you’ll ever know.He kissed her forehead, brushed his fingers over the shaved hair above her ear. “I don’t care much for people who are in their right minds anyway. I’m here for the weirdos.” He grinned at her. “So let’s make some noise.”
Like a ray of sunshine, her answering smile pierced the darkness in her room. Then she grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. His body responded, his arm snaking around her waist and tugging her across the bed, his fingers hauling her leg up over his hip, his tongue sliding between her lips.
“Shit,” she bit out, breaking the kiss.
“Shit?” That wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for.
“I forgot to tell you I got my test results back. I don’t have any STIs.”
Frowning, he asked, “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It would have been, but then I got my bullshit asshole period this morning.”
He blew out an unimpressed breath.If she thinks that will stop me…Kissing her top lip, and then her bottom lip, he said, “Sugar, if you need to be fucked, I have no problem fucking you while you’re bleeding.” He kissed her eyelids, one at a time, both still puffy, still red. “We can do, or not do, whatever you want. Whatever you need.”
“I want to be with you.” She watched him while he took her hand in his, kissing her fingertips one by one. “But I’m bloated and crampy and, honestly”—her eyes misted over again—“just really sad.”
“Have you taken any ibuprofen?”
“No. I probably should. I’ll go get some.”
“I got it,” he said, grasping her hip, holding her still when she tried to roll away. “Where is it?”
“Kitchen. Cupboard over the sink. And thank you, Cole, for everything.”
After giving her a soft kiss, he padded into the kitchen, filling his palm with two Advil and a glass with cold water. Slipping back into her room, kneeling on her bed, he fed her the Advil one by one. Then he put the glass of water on her nightstand, rolled her onto her side, and nestled in behind her again. When she grabbed his hand and tucked it back under her chin, he kissed her shoulder and said, “Mira?”
“Yes, Cole?”
Breathing in her sugary, citrus scent, he said, “You make me feel scary good too. I just thought you should know.”
In the quiet stillness of her room, while her body relaxed in his arms, his mind did the opposite. He wanted to stay with her all night, to let her sleep in and make her breakfast in bed, and if she was up for it, silently fuck her senseless so she could start her day loose and smiling. But he had to get back to Bluebird. Besides, she’d let him hug her, cuddle her, hold her while she fell asleep. He’d take the win.
Emotions: One. Meaningless robot sex: Zero.
He kissed her neck one last time before pulling her covers up over her shoulders and tucking her in tight. Unable to bring himself to wake her up to say goodbye, he thought about sending her a text, but he couldn’t find her phone and didn’t want to risk the notification noise in case it wasn’t on silent. Luckily, he found several torn scraps of paper and one of those multicolored pens next to a book of matches and a jar full of ashes on her dresser. Her wish jar.
Clicking on the pen’s black tab, he wroteYou’re beautiful when you sleep. Call me later, and only paused for half a second before addingLove, Cole. Folding the paper in half, he placed it on her nightstand, hoping this was a wish she wouldn’t burn.
Stepping through her door, he doubled back, remembering something. It was dark in her room, and she hated the dark. Walking over to her window, the same window she’d sat in countless times when they’d texted and talked, and that one time they’d FaceTimed, he reached down to where the cord dangled along her wall, and then he plugged in her string of twinkly lights.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
COLE
After spending somuch time on the mountain clearing trails, not only did Cole no longer need to slather his neck and back in Tiger Balm at the end of every day, but he could almost keep up with the guys all the way until they reached the day’s stake. When he wasn’t busy cutting down trees, he led groups with Murphy, helped Maude Alice cook for the men, went on walks with Davis, saw Mira whenever possible, and went to sleep exhausted but also happier than he had any right to be. But nothing made him as happy as Ruby’s face on his phone.
“How is she so much bigger? I’ve only been gone for two weeks!”
Chewing on her pappy, Ruby produced a string of drool that landed on her shirt, then squealed.
“I guess that’s what happens when all you do is eat and sleep,” Becks said, flipping the camera back to herself. “How’s it going over there? You crushing it?”
“Not sure I’d go that far, but it’s going well.” He sounded more confident than he felt, faking it until making it even though everything seemed to be going smoothly. The guys worked hard, passed all their drug tests, hung out reading on their porches or talking around the fire pit Cole dug out in the clearing between the cabins—after asking Madigan if it would be okay and receiving a “Why haven’t I ever thought of that?” text in response. It had all been relatively easy, surprisingly quiet. “I haven’t had to give out bathroom duty once.”
Her face pinched. “What the hell is bathroom duty?”
