When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys 2)
Page 182
He swallowed hard. “Thank you for loving me when I didn’t.”
I cupped his cheek like I’d done in the pool one warm night long ago, when I promised pain on anyone who’d hurt him. But he’d fought his own battles and come out, bruised and scarred but still fighting.
“Thank you for giving me back to myself,” I said, tears in my own eyes. “And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“When you left, I thought the loneliness would kill me. But I realized today at the Shack that I’d made you lonely, too. I made you lonely while we were still together, when my stupid fears and self-doubt kept us in hiding. I’m so sorry for that, Holden. You deserve to be loved out loud.”
His lips trembled and I kissed him, tasted his tears, and we fell into each other again and for the rest of the night, building a future with every kiss and touch.
The day dawned, and we woke wrapped in each other. Holden was warm in my arms and I made a new vow that I’d never let anyone take anything from him again.
Epilogue
One year later…
“Don’t peek or I’ll send it back,” I say, leading River out into the scorching summer heat down to the garage of our new house.
We’d closed a month ago on a four-bed, three bath modest little number (modest by my standards) that had a pool I didn’t want but River insisted on. It was the only thing he’d insisted on, other than we not spend a fortune on it.
“I want a home, not a house,” he’d said.
Couldn’t argue with that.
“You’re peeking, aren’t you?”
River chuckles, one hand over his eyes. “I’m not, promise. I’m actually scared to look.”
We arrive at the garage and my pulse kicks up a little. “All right, have at it.”
River pulls his hand away and then stares. “Holy shit… That’s a 1967 Pontiac GTO sports coupe,” he says in awe, walking around the rusted red eyesore that is going to be residing in our garage for the next six months. “Only about seven thousand ever made.”
He comes around beside me, his smile ridiculously beautiful. “Who’s is it? What’s the job?”
“No job. It’s yours.”
His blue eyes widen, and I could cry at how touched he is over this decrepit jalopy.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? To make you happy. What other reason could I possibly have to—?”
River hauls me to him and presses his mouth to mine in a deep kiss. I sag, falling into him instantly. They used to call me a vampire, but River’s kisses drain me of rational thought and leave me dizzy and weak, the sexy bastard.
“Thank you, Holden. I love it.”
“Then it’s the best piece of junk I ever bought.”
“When I’m done with it, it won’t look like junk.”
No, the faded red paint will be gleaming, and the rusted chrome will shine again.
Because that’s what he does, I think, watching River admire the car. He brings things back to life.
“It’s more for me than for you, anyway,” I add. “You spend so much time at the shop, depriving me of the pleasure of you in your work clothes, greased and sweaty, bent over a car…”
“I’ll bend you over this car right now,” River says, his voice gruff as he pulls me tighter to him.