Nick swallowed hard, his eyes burning and his chest hurting. How could he explain that their dad was gone? He wasn’t coming back.
“Da.” Jack stretched, his little fingers wiggling.
He didn’t remember moving. Didn’t remember crossing the room or sitting on the bed or leaning over him. He did remember hugging him. He felt the cling of Jack’s little arms around his neck and the softest brush of Jack’s curls against his cheek.
“Da.” It was a sigh.
“I got you, little bro.” He forced the words around the knot crushing his windpipe. “You hear me?”
…
Honor rolled over and stared at the sliver of light creeping through the blinds. Daylight. Not a streetlight. She sat up, staring around the dim interior of Owen’s bedroom.
“You okay?” Owen lay on top of the blankets beside her.
Oh God. She’d spent the night here. And now… She ran a
hand over her tangle of red curls. Bedhead, every morning. More like a rat’s nest. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asked, sitting up.
She caught sight of the clock. “No. Dammit.” She hopped up.
“What time were they going?” he asked, already knowing what she was worried about.
“An hour ago.” She tugged on her jeans. “My mother is probably freaking out.”
“Promise me you won’t get mad,” he interrupted.
She paused. “I’m not promising anything.”
“I texted Nick and got your mom’s cell number. I called her last night.” He stood, turning on the light. “I mean, with everything else…”
“She’s been through enough without me adding to it?” she asked, not in the least bit angry with him. He was right.
“Pissed?” he asked, his hands hovering by her shoulders, almost touching.
She shook her head and buried her face against his chest. “No.”
“Whew.” He chuckled, his hands running up and down her back. “Would kind of suck if you were. Since I love you and all.”
Honor laughed, but her heart kicked up to record-speed. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “You’re so full of it.” Last night had started out with her raging, dumping everything on him—everything. From her father’s betrayal to her brother’s rebellion to being Jack’s legal guardian to her fear of leaving home. He’d held her close, asking questions but listening more than anything. When she was done and the tears started, he kept on holding her.
She was the one who attacked him.
And he was the one who shut her down—fast.
“Am I? Why do you say that?” he asked, tilting her head back.
“You know why.” She shrugged out of his hold. For the first time, she’d taken a risk, tried to shake off her inhibition. And he’d held her away from him. It was humiliating—and painful. She sat on the bed and slipped on her shoes, awash in embarrassment all over again.
“Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” he asked, crouching in front of her as she tied her tennis shoes. “Hey.” His hand grabbed hers and held it still. “Honor?”
She tried to laugh it off. It came out like a croak. “I’m not good at this, okay? I’m pretty sure you’ve figured that out by now.” With a slight tug, she broke the contact. When he touched her, she short-circuited. “Let’s be honest. I don’t know how to do this. And last night, I didn’t come here thinking we’d… But then…” She stood, shoved her phone into her pocket, and reached for Amber’s keys.
“Stop a sec, okay?” He blocked her path. “You came here because you needed someone to listen to you. You picked me.” His hand rested along the curve of her cheek, drawing her gaze up to his gorgeous face. “I want to be that guy for you. Not some creep wanting to get into your pants. That’s not what I want for us, okay?” He kissed her, a slow, gentle kiss. “I do love you. Since the day you smiled at me in English class, I’ve loved you.”
It would be easier to laugh off if she didn’t want to believe what he said. And if he’d stop looking at her like that—like she mattered. Like maybe he did love her. “Are you serious?” Do I want to know? Because, no matter how hard she’d been fighting it since that day in the mall—no matter how many times she’d told herself she did not love him—she did. So much.