Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

“Good morning,” I say.

“Why are you still here?”

“I told you I wasn’t leaving.” I shrug.

She breezes by me. “I have to work today. Please don’t fuck up my head and cost me my job.”

I stifle my usual reaction of saying something asshole-ish. She’s going to do what she wants. I might as well get used to this since I’m in it for the long haul.

“Go to work,” I say, following her. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“No, Mach.” She spins on her heel. “Why won’t you just leave?”

“You wanna know why?” I move across the kitchen until I’m standing in front of her. Her cheeks are tear-stained, her lips plump from crying. She’s so goddamn pretty. “I’m not leaving because you never left me.”

“Until I did. And now, all of a sudden, you’re here. Typical you.”

I grab an orange out of a bowl on the table and peel it. She rolls her eyes and starts to make coffee.

I have no idea how this is going to work or what will happen if she does take a long time to give in. She is as stubborn as me. Who will run Crave? I have no clothes. I have to check on Nana.

But as she turns around and puts a hand on her lip, I realize I’ll figure it out. She’s the top of the totem pole. She’s the only thing that really matters right now.

“I’ll make dinner while you’re at work,” I offer. “Want anything in particular?”

The Keurig latch slams in place. “I have dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh, really? With who?” I shove two orange segments into my mouth, so I can’t say anything stupid because she’s about to. I can see it on her face.

“Samuel.” She fires a challenge in my direction, and it lands. Hard.

My insides burn as I struggle not to let her see my fury. I chew the fruit slowly, considering my response. By the time I swallow, she’s irritated.

“You can bring him by here,” I say, the fruit adding to the acid in my stomach. “I’ll make enough for all three of us.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d hate me if I were you until I realized how much I saw the error of my ways.”

She takes her coffee cup from the machine. “You can’t see the error of your ways because you’re always right. The all-knowing. The one who gets to decide everyone’s fate.”

I grab her elbow and spin her around. The coffee sloshes around the mug but doesn’t spill. She gasps for breath as she looks at me.

“I was wrong. Okay? I thought I was helping you by just taking me off your plate so you could walk away. That’s stupid. I see it now.”

“Totally stupid.”

“I know. And if I’m being honest, I pushed you away for me too. Because if you weren’t here and a witness to my failures, then that was a little easier. And it was easier not to have to think I tainted you with my shortcomings.”

“You don’t think I know your shortcomings?” she asks. “I know your failures better than anyone, Mach. And there are a lot of them. But I have a lot of them too,” she adds.

She sets the coffee down but doesn’t take her eyes off me.

“We’re both imperfect, Mach. We’ve both made mistakes in our lives. But the thing is, I try not to repeat them. You’re hell-bent on doing them over and over.”

“Until now.”

“Which is a miracle I can’t believe.” She raises a brow. “Look, Mach—”

“Listen to me,” I say, reaching for her hand. I’m surprised she lets me have it. “I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you it scares the shit out of me, okay? What if something happens to you?”

A knowing look flickers through her eyes. “You weren’t responsible for what happened to your parents, Machlan.”

“I know. I do,” I say when I see she’s about to argue with me. “I know shit happens. But look at what happened to me in the wake of all that. Do you know what would happen to me if something happened to you? I’d die, Had. I’d fucking die.”

My voice wobbles as I hope she gets it.

“Something does happen to me every time you don’t love me back. I die.” She smiles sadly. “You can’t control everything. Being alone doesn’t make you impenetrable.”

“If I’ve learned anything over the past few days, it’s that I can’t control jack shit. Trust me. And half the things I think I know, I don’t. The only thing I know for sure is that you love me, and I’m one lucky son-of-a-bitch for that.”

I think back to my talk with Nana and the things Cross said. I take Hadley’s other hand in mine. The feeling of her palms in mine, the softness of her skin, the fact that she’s still here when she shouldn’t be has a tear trickling down my cheek.