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I look from her over to Flint, who’s sitting back in his chair, studying me.
“Can I crash here tonight?” I ask, looking between him and Bree. Suddenly exhausted all over again.
“Of course, the room near Joe’s is made up,” Bree answers. Standing up, I take a moment to give them all a hug before heading to the room I stayed in the last time I was here.
After tossing and turning most of the night, I finally get out of bed and wander down to the bathroom. I’m relieved to find a fresh toothbrush and other essentials sitting on the counter, but really, it’s the keys to Flint’s truck that mean the most to me.
Ten minutes later, as I’m leaving the house, I’m still giggling over the Post-It that had been left next to the keys. In the smallest writing I’ve ever seen; Joe’s life was threatened, in explicit detail, if he took the truck.
Starting it up, I try to figure out where to go and just as I decide to start at my apartment—so I can shower and change clothes—the ‘check engine’ light goes on.
“Really?” I mutter, looking up at the sky. “You have nothing better to do than mess with me?”
Dammit. I guess I’m heading to The Garage.
Frowning at the cars waiting in its parking lot, I’m pleasantly surprised when Charlie directs me to a lane that’s wide open and just when I think that Royce might be off today, his head pops up from the pit under the lane.
I scream and slam on the brakes. My heart skips a beat the moment I see the lopsided grin on Royce’s face, and I know exactly what he’s thinking:That was your best chance to do me in, sugar.
“What are you doing in Flint’s truck?” He asks when he climbs out of the pit and walks up to the truck door.
“I, um, he let me borrow it, but then the ‘check engine’ light came on and someone once told me I shouldn’t ignore stuff like that,” I reply, trying to figure out why he’s gone from looking confused to smiling.
“Flintloanedyou his truck?Today?” he confirms and I nod.
I have no idea why he suddenly looks so damn happy, but his smile is contagious, and I return it with a small one of my own.
“I want to show you something,” he tells me, before reaching down to undo his belt. I slide out of the truck, hoping the door will shield him from the people behind me.
“I’ve already seen it!” I exclaim, holding my palm out, in an effort to stop him.
“No, you haven’t. I got it last night, so there won’t be any question about who this—” He momentarily cups a hand over his package. “Belongs to.”
Looking down, I see my name in block letters just above his pelvis. “Royce! How drunk were you?”
“I’m not going to lie, I was pretty fucking wasted, Molly. And I heard what you said yesterday, but I’ve been working on a plan to win you back.” Looking at him closely, I notice the beads of sweat on his forehead and I shake my head when I realize he’s still drunk from last night.
“Royce!” Connal bellows drawing our attention. “There are fucking kids over there!”
We both guiltily look at the glass wall between the garage and the waiting room, with a flustered mother trying to pull her kids away from it. Without looking down, he refastens his pants.
“You’re not perfect.” I repeat my revelation from the last night’s dinner and his face falls, not understanding the new meaning those words have for me.
“I know, Molly. But I love you so much and I’ll do anything for another chance with you. If you could just forgive me, I won’t ever give you a reason to doubt me.” He pleads with me.
“I’m not perfect,” I tell him, and he looks confused when I smile and take a step toward him.
“Yes, you are,” he whispers, getting that stubborn look of his when I shake my head.
“I love you,” I whisper back, surprising the hell out of him.
“You do?”
“Yes.” I take another step, closing the distance between us, wondering why he isn’t kissing me yet.
“And, just to confirm, we’ll be together?”
“Yes,” I reply, reaching a hand up to his cheek.
