Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)

“Okay.”

“Not here, though. There are a lot of people staring at us, and I’m pretty sure your neighbor has called the cops on me.”

I snicker as I look toward the house, where my whole family, biological and otherwise, stands in the windows, watching. Emery is front row, a big bowl of popcorn and a cupcake in her hands. “For the love of God.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Not yet,” he says before capturing my mouth with his so quickly, I don’t see it coming. I melt into his kiss, my thumbs moving along his jaw as he devours my mouth. I feel his whole soul in the kiss. I kiss him back, needing to know we are okay. I’m scared of what he has to tell me, but I know, no matter what, I’ve got him. He’s got me. We’ve just got to figure out this whole shutting-down thing he does.

But we’ll figure it out together.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Wes

I guess I should have asked if Stella wanted to head to my house, but I really didn’t know where else to go. The conversation we need to have can’t happen in a restaurant or a bar or even a coffee shop. It’s too private. And let me say this, I’m fucking petrified. I’m pretty sure I haven’t unclenched my jaw since we got in the truck. This is all about to get really real, and I almost don’t know if I can do it. I gave Aiden the Cliffs Notes of the Cliffs Notes of what happened to me. The abbreviated version won’t be enough for Stella. She needs to know; she needs to decide if this is something she wants to continue with me. I’m realizing I haven’t healed all the way, and if we’re going to be in a relationship, she’ll be a part of that healing.

I don’t know if I can even ask her to do that.

Like Emery ruthlessly informed me, Stella could have anyone. All she’d have to do is say she’s single on social media, and the guys would fall over themselves for her. She could have her pick of any guy she wanted. Between her beauty and her wits, they’d have no chance. Hell, I know I don’t. I think that’s what I’m most fearful of. I’m not scared to share my abuse—it is what it is—but I’m scared it’ll change how she feels about me.

Unlike usual, we ride in silence. She hasn’t pulled out her phone, but she sits with her hands in her lap, fingers laced together. The music plays low on the radio, and the quiet between us is killing me. The tension is overwhelming. My mind is going a million miles a second, and I’m sure she’s worried about what I’m thinking. I’m sure she’s just as freaked out as I am. I mean, I would be if I were in her shoes.

I feel my phone vibrate beside me. I look down to see a number I don’t know. I notice she looks too and then up to me. “Side chick?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Nope, you’re too much woman for me, Stella Brooks.”

Her lips curve up, and when I notice they haven’t left a voice mail, I remind myself to block the number. I’ve been getting weird number after weird number lately, and if there is no voice mail, I just block it. It’s how I am coping. I don’t know if it’s my dad, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to give him a chance to get to me.

Fuck, I don’t want to give him a moment of my thoughts. I need them free and on point so I can talk to Stella. I clear my throat. “I am taking you to my place. Hope that’s okay?”

She nods. “I figured that’s where we were going.”

“You weren’t going to ask?”

She looks over at me, her lashes long and black. “I trust you,” she says with a shrug, and my heart sings for this girl. I look out at the road, turning onto my street. When I pull into my driveway, I open the garage and head in. Once I’m fully inside, I hit the button to close the garage and shut off the truck. I look over at her and she is getting out, so I do the same. Before I close the door, though, I grab my phone, tucking it into my back pocket. I walk around the truck, meeting her at the base of the stairs.

“You could have gone in.”

“I didn’t know if it was locked,” she says as I throw the door open, letting her in before me. I shut the door as she heads for the couch, sitting down. I throw my keys and phone on the coffee table before looking down at her.

“Want something to drink?”

“Do you have soda?”

“I do,” I say. I know I’m buying time, but what can I say? I’m nervous. I head into the kitchen, getting two glasses and filling them with ice before pouring the soda. “How was your day?”