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“You’re scared,” he says. There’s a finality to his tone that leaves no room for argument. “I get that.”
“Do you?”
He opens his mouth, but quickly shuts it, as if reconsidering.
Tilting my head, I inhale deeply as his hand drifts down to my neck. Thumb stroking over my thrumming pulse.
I watch as Will pokes his tongue out to dampen his lips. The way his throat bobs with a swallow, just before his chest rises, shoulders broadening, as if bracing himself.
For someone so brash at times, he’s also so very gentle.
“I do,” he says simply, yet the gravity of his words tugs on my heart. “I do get it, because I know you, and I know how protective you are of what’s yours.” My eyes burn, and I see that burn reflected in his glistening eyes as he goes on, “I’ve known that since the day I met you, when you tried like hell to scare me off. When you made it clear I wasn’t welcome to sit with you and your friends.”
I feel my neck heat and I shake my head. “I—”
He chuckles. “It was cute.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn away from his hand. He only laughs harder.
“He never did like sharing.”
Whipping my head over to Mason, I gape at him as he joins us.
He shrugs, lips screwed up in a rueful smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Taking a seat on the black leather armchair next to us, he stretches out his legs, and folds his hands loosely together over his lap. Glancing at Will he says, “It took him over a month to warm up to me when I moved to town.”
Scoffing, I say, “That’s a lie.”
“You glared at me every time I so much as breathed in the same space as Izzy,” he says chuckling, light blue eyes swimming with mirth at the memories. “Face it, man. You’re kind of territorial.”
I open my mouth to refute that, but Will interrupts before I can.
“Wait, you didn’t always live in Shiloh?”
Frowning, I glance my boyfriend. “You didn’t know that?”
His eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “No.”
Huh.
“I moved to Shiloh when I was six, not long after my dad left,” Mason explains. “Just from a couple towns over, so it’s not like I was totally new to the area.”
Shawn joins us then, gesturing for Mason to scoot a bit so he can sit on the arm.
“We good?” Mason asks.
Shawn nods. “Said they should have enough to start layering. We’re free ’til tomorrow morning.”
“Sweet.”
Will’s fingers play absently with the collar of my shirt as Mason and Shawn start discussing how we should celebrate finishing the new song. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. His gaze is far-off, almost wistful.
“Hey.”
He blinks and looks up at me. “Hey yourself.”
The guys are still talking amongst themselves, and Paul and Bryce are busy over by the sound deck, their backs to us. Taking the brief moment of privacy, I press myself closer to Will, all but sinking into him as I drop my cheek to his shoulder.
He turns, pressing a kiss to my head, before burying his nose in my hair.
