Page 117 of On The Edge

He shuts the fridge, crosses his arms over his chest, and leans his ass against the counter. “I don’t like him.”

“What?” I ask, partially laughing in disbelief and in worry. “You can’t possibly—you just met him.”

He nods definitively. “And yet I don’t like him.”

“Shh,” I say and glance over my shoulder, as panic has my heart racing and my hands trembling. “You never said anything like that about Michael. Ever.”

He nods, those green eyes that match mine staring at me. “Michael is nice. Was nice. He treated you well. But, fuck, kiddo, I never had that feeling I was being threatened by him.”

I bark out a laugh. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Why would you be threatened by Cruz?”

His smile softens but the intensity in his eyes holds. “Because you love him.”

His words hit me like a fist to the stomach . . . then reaches up and tightens its fingers around my heart.

I blink several times over, unsure what to say or how to respond. Gavin Hart doesn’t say shit like that. Ever.

“You can deny it all you want, but it’s written all over your face. It’s how you look at him. It’s the confidence you have now . . . confidence that no doubt you’ve always had but that somehow, he helped you find and own. Things that I should have done for you as a father, but clearly didn’t, because he did. So no, I don’t like him.”

“You just met him,” I say again.

“I’m aware, but I already know.” He shrugs.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. I’m just trying to figure out how exactly to strangle the guy if he ever hurts you . . . because I already like him when I don’t want to, and I have a feeling if he goes missing and gets buried under an oak tree out here, his absence might be noticed.”

His slow crawl of a smile tells me all I need to know. He loves me. He’s trying to figure out if he approves of Cruz while feeling like he’s letting his baby go.

And all three of those things fill up my cup that already seems to be running over. I am so lucky. I have known this quality of love my entire life. Affirming. Unconditional. Adoring. It’s how I wish I could love Cruz too. It’s the kind of love he deserves to know exists. To experience.

He grabs our drinks and as we walk out, he hooks an arm around my neck and pulls my head over so he can press a kiss to the top of my head.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Cruz

“This is my rooftop,” Maddix says softly.

We’re lying on our backs in a field of long grass, the breeze swaying all around us, as we look up at the stars in the sky above. The rustle of the trees surrounds us and crickets or some weird beetles chirp.

Our stomachs are full of some smoked brisket and all things barbecue, and her parents have turned in for the night.

But the time difference and jet lag has us up. It had Maddix grabbing my hand and telling me she wanted to show me something.

This place.

This endless field.

The view of the sky above.

All of the outside noise gone so that it’s just us.

This is her rooftop.

“The field or the sky?” I ask.

“Maybe all of it. I feel like I’m the only one in the world here. Just the stars and the sky. It’s like I feel so small that all of the trivial stuff doesn’t matter, and I’m forced to see the bigger picture.”