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He looks down at me and pushes the hair away from my face. “You feeling better?” His voice is deep and husky.
I smile and nod. “I haven’t been able to sleep in—”
“I know,” he sighs. “Let’s get you to bed.”
When we walk into Legacy, Buck is standing with his arms crossed, scowling at Angelo. “Not real fucking smart, taking off and not saying a damn thing.”
Out of the office, a huge bear of a dog trots up and sits on Angelo’s foot. He pats his head.
“Not anyone’s business,” Angelo tells Buck as he places his big hand on my back, guiding me toward the stairs.
“Well, what if you got caught, then where would I?” He pauses. “What would happen to the gym, to Mutt?”
Angelo looks at him with concern in his eyes, yet he’s tired and a little annoyed. “You got a place here, Buck, whether I’m here or not. Mutt would be happy anywhere. I didn’t ask for him; Hendrix and his wife would take his big-ass back,” he says as he starts walking again.
“Mutt likes you. Been sleeping in your bed, whining and shit. And Jagger would kick me out,” he says with raw fear in his voice.
“No, Buck, he wouldn’t.” Angelo now sounds somewhat defeated.
“He would, too,” Buck argues.
Angelo stops and looks at him. “You need to bury whatever issues you have with Jagger. He’s a good man; a good friend to have. You have his back, he’ll have yours.”
“Only person here that has my back is you.” Buck points at him.
“Show him something other than a stubborn little punk and—”
“I’m no fucking punk, Kid,” he snaps.
Angelo sighs. “I’m fucking exhausted, Buck. We can discuss this after I’ve had a few hours’ sleep.”
“Fine, whatever, not like it matters, anyway,” Buck huffs then looks at me and raises his chin. “Glad you’re back. Kid’s been a dick.”
“Buck, watch it,” Angelo warns.
“Glad to be back.” I smile at him as Angelo opens the door and guides me up the stairs. I hear the dog walking up behind us.
“Do I need to hang out down here?” Buck asks, sounding slightly annoyed.
“No, Buck, you live here,” Angelo says from over his shoulder as we reach the top of the stairs.
I scan the room as we walk through. The counter is cluttered with cups from The Bean.
I look at Angelo, and he shakes his head. “Shit’s almost as addicting as you.”
I can’t help smiling at that.
“You ready for some sleep, Tatum?”
“I’d like to use the bathroom first,” I say, and his hand leaves my back for the first time since I got out of the truck.
When I walk into his room after using the bathroom, he’s standing at the window, his back to me, the dog sitting by his side. I swear his muscles have gotten bigger. I can see them through his sweatshirt.
He sighs and uncrosses his arms, putting his hands on the glass.
I clear my throat, letting him know I’m in the room, and he turns around, snaps his fingers, and points at the dog bed beside the nightstand. The dog immediately goes over and lies down.
“Shirt’s right there for you to sleep in.” He points at a Legacy shirt on the bed. “I’m gonna go grab your things.”
I don’t want him to grab my bags. I want him to lie next to me and for him to hold me. I want to smell him, feel his arms around me, listen to his deep breaths as he smells me while I rest my head against his naked chest and let his strong, steady heartbeat lull me to sleep.
“Tatum?” he asks, looking down at me.
I can’t say anything. Not one word of the millions stuck in my head will come out of my mouth.
His beautiful eyes squint, and he swallows hard. He looks exhausted, and I feel horrible that I am the cause of it.
He steps closer and pushes my coat off my shoulders, and then out one arm at a time, pulling it off. I close my eyes when he takes the hem of my shirt and lifts it. I raise my arms as he pulls it up and over my head. Then he balls it up and shoots it into the gray laundry basket beside the dresser. When he turns back around and looks at me, he runs his thumb up my arm and under the shoulder strap of my bra. He then runs his large, callused thumb slowly back and forth over my skin. I never want him to stop touching me.
He slides the strap down my arm, and I pull it free. Then he does the same to the other side before he turns me around so I’m facing the bed. After he unhooks the bra, I let it fall to the ground.
He grabs the t-shirt and pulls it over my head. The soft cotton of the shirt is a great contrast to his touch, and right now, I just want his touch.
