It’s moving day. Another thing that makes this feel like it can’t be my actual reality. I’m recovered, still not a hundred percent, but good enough. I don’t need to stay at the cabin anymore. And Adora has a home she hasn’t spent a single night in for three months now.
She told me straight up I’m moving in with her. Which is good, because I was fully prepared to buy an air mattress and camp out on her porch otherwise.
I’m almost at the door when it swings open, missing my nose by no more than three inches.
Adora pushes past me, a cardboard box full of clothes in her hands. She sets it on my desk, then turns to me, her face dead serious.
A warning breathes against my spine. I close the door and wait for her to speak first. She doesn’t keep me waiting.
“I got impatient,” she says coolly, leaning against my desk and gesturing at the box. “I packed the stuff from your room upstairs. All three pairs of jeans and three T-shirts. Your stuff from the cabin is already in the truck. All three pairs of sweats and the other three T-shirts you own.”
She takes out a ball cap, glances at it, then looks back at me. “I also found this. I’ve never seen you wear one.”
My brows lift, my lips following. “You could have. You just never turned around.”
I walk toward her, slow and steady. She drops the cap on the desk when I stop in front of her, caging her between my arms.
“I’m sensing an accusation,” I murmur. “What’s bothering you, adorable?”
She looks up at me, her fingers trailing over the zipper of my cut. “You’ve been keeping a secret from me. And I found it.”
I brush my knuckles along her jaw, her skin electric under my touch. “And what secret might that be?”
She glances at the box and starts pulling out the T-shirts on top. I take a step back, giving her space.
My heart nearly stops when she pulls something else out, something she wasn’t supposed to find. Something Mama was supposed to keep for me until I asked for it. Which would’ve been later today.
“This was in the closet in your room,” she says, slipping the Ol’ Lady cut on and looking down at the way it settles over her body.
She runs her fingers over the leather, then pulls one side open, exposing the lining.And the words stitched into it.Every word I’ve ever written on a note for her — along with more — carefully hand-sewn into the lining in red thread.
“I was going to give it to you later today,” I say, barely getting the words out, my throat too tight, my breath catching at the sight of her in it. “Before I took you for a ride. You weren’t supposed to find it.”
She looks at me from under her brows, the corner of her mouth lifting. “It was poorly hidden.”
That’s because Mama betrayed me. But I can’t think about that right now. I can barely stand. There’s a roar in my ears, in my head, in my chest, in my entire fucking body.
“When did you order it?” she asks, looking at me like she already knows the answer.
“I was still in the hospital,” I mutter with a shrug, still barely breathing. “It took Mama a while to do the stitching, though.”
I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with a needle. Except maybe shove it in someone’s eye.
“She did a good job,” Adora whispers, brushing her fingers along the words in the lining again. “You gave her beautiful words, and she made them look just as beautiful.”
My heart is going to crack my ribs.
“They’re not more beautiful than you,” I say, finally stepping closer to her.
She looks at me like I’m a kid she just caught stealing candy. “Stop reading my books. They’re turning you into a hopeless romantic.”
I run my hand through her hair, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “Never.”
I learn something new about her with every one of those books I read.
She leans into my touch, her eyes half-closing. “Okay. I’ll allow it for now.” A pause, soft as a breath. “I accept the cut. It wears my words. It’s mine.”
I’m about to kiss her when she glances down, then smiles at me, slow and cheeky.
