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He smirked, then turned his attention back to the movie. We continued in silence, and by the time I was finished with my meal, I’d figured out what was happening in this film. Gage put his arm on the back of the sofa and motioned for me to come lie against him again. I curled my feet up, and careful not to touch his ribs, I rested my head on his shoulder. His warm body smelled wonderful, and I closed my eyes. Soaking up how good it felt to be near him like this.
The next time I opened my eyes, the room was dark, except for the hallway light, and my head was in Gage’s lap. Turning my head, I looked up to see his eyes closed. Crap. He should have woken me up. It wasn’t good for him to sleep like this. Easing myself up, I tried to think of what would be best. Maybe I could turn him around and lay him on the sofa, then get him a blanket and pillow. The recliner would be fine for me.
Gage’s hand wrapped around my wrist. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice thick from sleep.
“To get you a pillow and a blanket. I’m sorry I fell asleep. I’ll get you comfortable. Just give me a second,” I replied.
“No. Let’s go upstairs,” he said, moving his cast to the floor and then standing up without my help. He’d done it easily. Not even a need for a crutch.
“You’re sure you don’t want to just sleep down here?” I asked him.
“Want you in my bed,” he replied and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, then began walking us toward the stairs.
This man did not need my assistance to walk. Not even a little. He’d left the crutch by the sofa, completely forgotten.
When we reached the stairs, he glanced at me and grinned. “I can do this.”
Of course he could. I stood there and watched as he maneuvered himself up without any help or issue. This clearly wasn’t the first time he’d done this. I lifted my gaze to his, and he winked at me. Damn that wink. It made my thoughts scramble.
At the top of the stairs, he put his arm around my shoulders again. Not for support, but to keep me beside him.
Was I even needed in this house?
We reached his door, and he dropped his hand to my back and pressed it for me to go in first.
Gage walked to the bathroom, and I could hear the water running, then the sound of him brushing his teeth. I waited until he walked out to take my overnight bag inside and close the door behind me. I didn’t try and help him get into bed because he didn’t need it. Tomorrow, we’d talk about this.
I washed my breasts off from our earlier sexual activities, then brushed my teeth before changing into a pair of pale blue pajama shorts and the matching sleeveless top. When I opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, I expected to find him asleep. His eyes were open, and they followed me as I walked to the other side of his bed and climbed inside.
“Beside me,” he said, still sounding like he’d just woken up.
I moved closer until he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him. His lips brushed the side of my head, and his leg wedged between mine. A content warmth washed over me.
For the first time since I’d opened my eyes two years ago, I didn’t feel the hollowness deep in my chest. In the beginning, I’d thought it was because I had no memories. That the relationships in my life were now unknown.
Moving and leaving all of that behind to start new hadn’t changed it. The emptiness remained while I tried to build a life around it. Struggling to address it when I didn’t understand what it was that had caused it. I had been missing an important piece.
My hand moved over to rest on Gage’s chest. If he was what filled that for me, former me had been living with the same vacant ache in her soul that I had been.
Twenty-Five
Gage
Six Years Ago
This seemed to be all the time now. A constant state of rage churning inside me. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t fucking ease it. Unless she was with me, and even then, it all depended on her mood. She’d graduated from high school, and I hadn’t been invited to the ceremony. I gripped the wrench in my hand tightly, hating that she had a life I wasn’t a part of.
When she was with me, it was so easy to forget that I didn’t get all of her. I’d never seen her bedroom or met her parents—they didn’t even know I fucking existed. Shiloh was mine. She was it for me. The days of hiding were over. She’d turned eighteen, and yet she still refused to be open to her family about me.
Thinking about her at some fucking graduation party with guys talking to her, looking at her, I slammed the wrench down and stood up. I couldn’t focus enough to work on any damn bikes. I cursed, kicking the bike I was supposed to be fixing, then slammed my fist against the wall.
“Don’t fuck the bike up more. Go walk it off or some shit. You’re gonna have to get control of your temper,” Huck called out.
I glared back at him. He had no idea what this felt like.
Huck pointed at the bike. “Don’t fuck up shit,” he warned again before turning to go back inside the office.
I fisted my hands in my hair, restless, needing to let the pent-up fury inside of me out before I fucking exploded. This was just going to get worse. I’d snap soon. I knew this feeling.
