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“Well, I’m a mess, and you’re a mess… and we’re in your mom’s house,” I reminded him. “Please, tell me you have something to clean up with in here.”
His head tipped down to mine, eyes shutting as he chuckled. Oh, I loved that sound.
“Fuck. Who knew I’d be doing the walk of fucking shame in my mom’s house at thirty-one,” he replied. Moving impressively fast for someone who just thoroughly wrecked my pussy, he stood and smiled. “I’ve got you, baby girl. Always.”
“I know.” And I did.
Chapter 81
Genevieve
Iwrung my fingers in the hem of my shirt as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Killian’s athletic pants swallowed my legs alive, his shirt hung long and loose on my body, and my hair barely constituted as together. I looked exhausted. All-night sex with your hot-as-sin husband would do that to you.
But he was gone when I woke up. Despite knowing we were in his mom’s house—meaning he was probably downstairs—my heart had a mini panic attack over him leaving. So pathetic.
I rummaged through the drawers to keep busy as the negative thoughts zeroed in on that one little thing. He loved me. I kept telling myself that. Insecurity wouldn’t win. I wouldn’t let it ruin us before we even began.
I found a ponytail holder in a random drawer and quickly put my hair up—perks of straight hair. It was easier to get out of the way. I still missed my curls, but they’d come back.
The house was loud when I made myself leave the bathroom. I had a feeling everyone was there, and I was right. Almost. Killian was missing. I tried my best not to think about it as I quietly wandered into the living room, which was honestly hard when all conversations ceased. I waved awkwardly. God, it shouldn’t have felt this weird. They were my family too.
Except I’d also tried to cut them off.
“Morning,” I whispered.
“Good morning, darling,” Maeve greeted cheerfully. “My cavemen didn’t wake you, did they?”
She stared pointedly at where Lucas and Finn were tangled up in one another, clearly stuck in a wrestling match. Both grinned stupidly, and I laughed.
“No,” I said. “I really should get up at this point.”
“Can I go back to sleep?” Cade muttered. He was sprawled out on a couch with a pillow on his face. “The cavemen have me awake.”
“I told you to go use my bed,” Maeve replied.
“And I made a joke about that, which now has Declan threatening to toss my rear end out if I try to crawl into your bed,” he told her. I bit my lip as Declan nodded, mouth tight. “I need my beauty sleep.”
“Don’t make jokes about my mom,” Declan shot back.
“It was a bad joke,” Raven agreed, but nothing in her expression made me believe it bothered her in the least.
“Okay, well,” Maeve stood, “we’re just going to go to the kitchen and let them do… whatever this is. I don’t pretend to know what they’re doing half the time.”
I smiled. That was a lie. Maeve knew pretty much everything about everyone. She hooked her arm through mine and steered me to the kitchen.
“Nolan, you too,” she called over my shoulder. Glancing back, I watched Nolan scramble to disentangle from his blankets and hurry after us. “I’m just going to leave you two here. I’ll be back eventually.”
“You’re not very subtle, Mom,” Nolan hollered as she left.
“I’m not trying to be, darling!” she retorted. No one expected her to be.
Alone, Nolan turned to me with a million little thoughts etched across his face. My poor little smut-writing wolf. How in the world did I begin to make up for what I did? What was the right way to tell someone you were sorry for letting your trauma take over your life and turning you into a horrible person? Nolan and I had been friends for the better part of ten years. No one got me quite like Nolan did and vice versa. We really were awkward little fish together.
“I’m sorry,” I said. That was a terrible start, but it was a start. It didn’t begin to encompass everything I needed to say to him.
In three long strides, he closed the distance between us and scooped me up in his arms. I hugged him and buried my face in his chest, comforted by the soft aromas of coffee and vanilla mingling together. Crying into Nolan’s chest had been a thing for a long time.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered into my neck, his arms tightening. “I knew he was awful, but I didn’t know.”
