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“It’s a fucking big deal, Gabe. I can give you a hand, but you know who’ll be great at helping?” he asks and doesn’t wait for an answer. “Piper. I bet Pipe will become her best friend and make her feel welcome.”
“Ame is going through a lot. We can’t just drag her into the Decker family—or Piper,” I remind him.
He shakes his head. “I don’t love keeping secrets from my woman. Fix your shit and tell Pipe soon, okay?”
I nod. “Maybe after the holidays.”
Archer doesn’t get that if my family found out I was moving Ameline in, they’d freak. Act like I was marrying the girl tomorrow or who knows what. When Leslie died, Dad and Mom were hovering all the time. They sent me to therapists and talked about not stopping my life because she had left so soon. It was weird. Their fear that I would fall into a big depression was scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced. I just don’t want to deal with something like that again.
As we climb into the truck, my mind wanders to Ameline who is now waiting for me back at my place. I picture her sitting on my couch, knees pulled to her chest, big doe eyes studying her strange new surroundings.
Which reminds me, I’ve got to plan the night ahead. They sent her medication to prevent the headaches and seizures, but they can’t guarantee they’ll work one hundred percent. I have to make sure she’s comfortable. My chest clenches thinking about how small and helpless she looked in that hospital bed.
I’ve got research to do, too, ways to get her the care she needs. Her dad cut her off, but he must be legally required to cover her health expenses, right? If I have to, I’ll take the bastard to court myself. Anything to make sure Ameline gets the treatment she deserves.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. She’s not alone, and I will make sure that she gets through all this unscathed, or at least not too mangled.
When we arrive home, I find Ame curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, face pale and drawn. My heart squeezes. Making my way to the kitchen, I heat up some milk and mix in honey and cinnamon, just how Mom makes it when we can’t sleep.
“Here,” I say gently, pressing the warm mug into her hands. “This might help you relax.”
Ameline’s eyes shimmer with gratitude as her fingers curl around the drink. “You’re too good to me,” she whispers.
I want to wrap my arms around her, but I resist the urge. Can’t let myself act on my feelings right now. Archer thinks I’m in denial, but that’s not true. I’m aware of the way she makes my heart stutter, and I look forward to her next text every fucking day. It’s just . . . not the right time.
But when tears fill those big brown eyes, my resolve crumbles. Unable to stop myself, I pull her close, her body soft and warm against mine. She sobs into my shirt and I rub her back, murmuring soothing words. Holding this hurting, vulnerable girl in my arms . . . it feels right. Like she belongs here, with me.
For now, just having her here is enough. Her sobs eventually subside, and she pulls back to look up at me with red-rimmed eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says, sniffling. “I’ve been falling apart all day, haven’t I?”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s understandable.”
Ameline nods, taking a shaky sip of the warm milk. Some color returns to her cheeks. “This really hits the spot.”
I notice her eyelids starting to droop and stifle a yawn myself. “I think it’s time we both got some rest.”
“You’re probably right.” Ameline stands, setting her empty mug in the sink. She turns back to me, looking almost shy. “Thank you, Gabe. For everything.”
Before I can react, she leans in and brushes her lips against my cheek in a featherlight kiss. My skin tingles where her mouth touched.I can’t help but hug her while I breathe in the faint scent of her shampoo and feel her curves press against me.
“Good night,” she murmurs.
“Good night.” I finally make myself let go. She gives me one last grateful smile before padding off to the staircase.
* * *
Once I clear the kitchen, I find Archer in the library. He’s leaning against one of the big oak shelves, reading a book. His eyes light up when they meet mine. “How is she?”
I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Asleep, finally. It’s been a long day.”
Archer nods, pushing off from the shelf to stand up straight. “I can’t believe that not even her brother will help her.”
My jaw tightens as I remember the phone call with Cedric. His outright refusal to help his own sister. His father forbade it, and he can’t lose his financial support. Not for her. It’s as if she just became a thing he can discard.
“He won’t even talk to her,” I say bitterly. “If by any chance Dad disowned one of my siblings, I would be right there for them.”
“Not that your father would do something like that with any of you,” Archer adds.
