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With the slight pain came the instant ability to draw a deep breath and I let the small cut bleed for a moment before reaching for some tissues and holding it against the wound. Replacing the blade back into the disposable razor, I tossed it in the trash and found a Band-Aid. Swiping some antibiotic salve over the cut, I put on the Band-Aid and cleaned up any sign of what I’d just done.
Back in my room, I lay down on the bed just as a wave of shame washed over me. Tears blinded me and I pulled my pillow to my chest, burying my face in it so Marcus wouldn’t hear me as I cried myself to sleep…
The insistent knocking on the door to my suite woke me up hours later. I jerked awake and sat up in bed. My fingers went to my wrist, making sure my bracelet was on before I jumped out of bed. I was wearing the shorts and one of Harris’s old T-shirts I’d put on when I’d gotten back from classes so I didn’t bother to grab a robe as I rushed out into the living area of the suite.
Marcus was already at the door. Pulling it open just enough to see out, I watched as his shoulders lost the tension that had been radiating off him and he stepped back, opening the door all the way as he shook his head. Curious as to who could be showing up there at—I glanced at the clock on the wall—two thirty-six in the morning, I moved closer to the door.
The guy who walked into the living room had my breath catching in my throat but a small cry left me despite it. Harris’s aquamarine eyes ran over the room, looking wild and dangerous until they landed on me. “You haven’t picked up your phone all damn day, Lu. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”
The surprise was starting to fade, to be replaced with the sting of tears as they filled my eyes. I opened my mouth to tell him I was so glad to see him. To ask why he was there. Anything. But nothing would come out.
Marcus shut and locked the door. “Night, Lucy,” he grumbled over his shoulder as he headed back toward his room.
I couldn’t even repeat the sentiment as I just stood there, rooted to the spot, letting my eyes feast on the sight of the only person I wanted to see right then. I wrapped my arms around my middle, only to have the newest cut on my wrist twinge, reminding me of the shameful thing I’d done just a few hours earlier.
As soon as the door closed behind Marcus, Harris moved, his large steps eating up the distance between us until I was in his arms and he was holding on to me like he never wanted to let go. “What’s wrong?” he demanded in a rough whisper. “Why wouldn’t you pick up the phone?”
“Be-because I knew I would cry, and I didn’t want to add more stress to your plate,” I confessed in a shaky voice.
“And you thought not hearing from you at all made that any easier?” He didn’t sound angry as his arms tightened around me and he lowered his head to kiss a trail from my temple to the corner of my mouth. “I’ve been losing my mind thinking something had happened. I jumped on the first plane I could get and came straight here.”
“I-I-I’d say I’m sorry, but you’re here and I couldn’t be sorry if my life depended on it.” I leaned into him, breathing in deep so that my lungs were full of only the scent of him. I wanted to bottle that scent so I never had to be without it. “I…I’ve miss you so much,” I sobbed, unable to hold it back a moment longer.
All
the tension seemed to fade from his body and his arms tightened around me. Lifting me into his arms, he glanced around. “Which way to your room?” I pointed toward my closed bedroom door and he wasted no time carrying me inside.
Using his foot to close the door behind us, he paused only long enough to lock the door before turning toward the bed. When he stopped and frowned down at my bed, I followed his gaze and grimaced when I saw the mess of books and notes spread around everywhere. With a deep chuckle, he sat me in the chair by my desk and then cleaned off the bed.
“I see you’ve been hard at work, sweetness.” He set the stack of books and notes on my desk, then scooped me back up into his arms.
I cupped his face in my hands, noting the beard and realized that he hadn’t shaved in several days. “So have you,” I said softly, tracing the scruff over the dimple in his right cheek and then the left. “You look exhausted. Is everything going okay with the club?”
“The club is fine. I’ve already gotten the York situation handled and over with. I haven’t slept well since I left you, though. It’s hard to fall asleep when I don’t have you in bed beside me.” He lowered his head and nuzzled my ear with his nose. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“Still love me?”
My eyes widened. “You’re an idiot. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”
“Thank God,” he whispered and slowly lowered me onto my bed. Kicking off his shoes, he followed me down, wrapping his warm body around mine and laying his head on my pillow. “I want to make love to you right now, but I think I need to hold you more.”
“So hold me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. “Hold me and never let go.”
Chapter 20
Harris
I slept peacefully for the first time in a month that night.
I’d been working my ass off handling all the shit that Peyton had stirred up and had thankfully avoided the bad publicity of a lawsuit from Greg York. It had helped, of course, having the proof from the many cameras throughout my club that had caught York being just as antagonistic to the two guys who had jumped him as they had been to him. He’d gotten in a few good hits of his own, and once my lawyer had convinced him that the jail time he could face should the other guys press their own charges against him for throwing the first punch, he’d dropped all legal actions against First Bass.
That had taken up most of my time over the last four weeks, but it hadn’t been enough to distract me from missing Lucy. The highlight of my days had been getting to talk to her, so when she hadn’t picked up her phone at all the day before, I’d lost my mind. I didn’t know what was going on with her. Was she pissed at me? Had I done something to upset or hurt her? Was she okay?
I hadn’t known and I’d jumped on the first plane to D.C., not even caring that I’d left First Bass in the middle of the Friday night crowd with only Nate to take over. I knew Nate could handle it, but even if he couldn’t it wouldn’t have mattered. First Bass would always come second to Lucy.
Always.
