Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)

She doesn’t look at me, but she shrugs. “It was busy. I’m exhausted.”

Probably both physically and mentally. I know I am.

“What flavor cupcakes did you make?” I say, coming to the couch with both glasses.

She takes one, and I hate that she doesn’t even smile. Usually talking about cupcakes brings her such joy. I really fucked up here. “The pink cupcakes are guava cake with cream cheese frosting. We made cute little pink question marks for them and then blue ones for the blue cupcakes. For the blue, we made a blueberry lemonade cake with cream cheese frosting. They’re all so damn good.”

My mouth is watering. “I’m unsure if I want a boy or girl here.”

She laughs. “You can eat both.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve never been to a gender reveal.”

“No?”

“Never,” I say, and I love the surprised grin on her face. “I thought if I was rooting for a boy, I could only eat the boy things.”

She giggles. “No. You can have whatever you want.”

“Are you on the menu?” I ask with a wink, and her grin grows.

“Always for you,” she says, stroking her hand along my thigh. “But enough of the small talk, huh?”

“Yeah. We kind of suck at it.”

She nods as I cover her hand with mine. “Almost as bad as Emery.”

“No one is as bad at small talk as Emery.”

“We’re close,” she admits, holding my gaze. When I look away, she lets out a long, annoyed sigh. “Wesley, come on. Let’s fix this because I miss you. So much.”

My heart, I don’t even know how to describe the pain it feels. “I missed you all day,” I admit, unable to look at her. “It was hard not reaching out to you.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I was embarrassed,” I admit, shaking my head. “I couldn’t believe I acted the way I did last night. And I was worried that if I wrote back, you’d want to break up—or worse, want to know what the hell my issue is.”

“Yeah, it’s the latter for me.” She reaches up, taking my jaw in her hand and directing my gaze to her. “Look at me, Wes. I’m not going anywhere.”

I want to laugh or sob, one of the two. “You can’t promise that.”

“Sure, the future is unknown, but right now, I want you. I want us. Do you want the same thing?”

“Of course,” I rush out, almost as if I’m out of breath. “But wanting each other is one thing. Dealing with my demons is another.”

Her eyes narrow, but they’re still full of compassion. “Your demons don’t scare me, Wes. The only thing that scares me is you shutting me out.”

Her confidence is intoxicating. She truly believes that my demons wouldn’t scare her. How can she be so self-assured? I feel like my heart is jumping up into my throat, suffocating me and making me light-headed. I never told my past girlfriends—or anyone, for that matter—what had happened. No one cared. No one wanted to be in my corner like Stella wants to be. “You can’t say that.”

“Yes, I can,” she says simply, and I almost believe her. “Those demons, your past, they don’t need you. They don’t deserve you. We need you. Now. Me. Us. This, Wes.”

Fuck, my stomach hurts as I nod, agreeing with her. I don’t want them to have any hold on me, but I haven’t conquered not giving in to the fear of my past yet. I can’t speak; my heart is pounding too hard, and I think she knows this.

“Okay, let’s start with something easy. Can you tell me how it went with Aiden?”

I sigh, cupping our hands in my other hand. Her thumb moves along the back of my hand, and I want to curl up in a ball so she can hold me. It’s so silly, such a silly thought. But I want it. I crave it. I want to feel safe. I clear my throat. “It went way better than I thought. He was shocked, of course, and I told him about what happened last night.”

Her eyes widen. “You did? Was he upset?”

“Told me he’d let Emery kill me if I ever grab you in a way you wouldn’t want ever again.”

“That’s the thing, I wanted it. I misread the situation, which is why it was all so confusing to me.”

“I know,” I say softly. “I didn’t want you to say anything else.” I feel like I keep swallowing, trying to get past the lump in my throat, but it isn’t moving. “He said he couldn’t pick a better man for his sister. That he trusted me, loved me.”

Her lips curve up. “Man, that’s all Shelli. She has whipped him into shape.” We share a smile, her laughter running down my spine. In a really good way. “He’s right, you know.”

I grimace. “Eh, I don’t know. I want to be—”