Hold on to Hope

She twisted her face around so she could look at me, hooked her arm back to wrap around my neck. “I am yours.”

I knocked lightly on my parents’ bedroom door. Sure my hair was a disaster and I smelled like sex, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t wait for their call, so I carefully cracked open the door and peeked inside.

Mom was sitting up against the headboard, her readers perched on her nose, reading a book. Dad was passed out with a sleeping Everett draped across his chest, his hand protectively set on his back.

Emotion surged.

Thick and overwhelming.

Mom took off her glasses and smiled, gesturing for me to enter. “Hey.” Could tell she was whispering.

“Hi.” I kept mine the same as I crept inside. “He’s out, huh?”

“He never even stirred.” She turned her gaze on Dad and Everett before she turned the weight of it on me. “That’s one beautiful sight, isn’t it?”

My smile was almost wistful. “Yeah. Never thought I’d get to witness a sight like that. Never thought I’d get to have it.” I eased down to sit on the edge of her bed.

Mom reached out and touched my cheek. “I’m so glad you have this chance.”

I cut my gaze over to Everett before I returned it to her. “I get it now, Mom, how you always told me I was perfect to you, no matter my disabilities. Don’t think I ever really believed it before. Thought it was something you and Dad told me to make me feel better. But I get it. It doesn’t matter how this turns out, I will love him the same.”

Her nod was slow. “I don’t think a child can ever understand the extent of a parent’s love until they get to experience that for themselves.”

Sitting there, memories assailed me, the fear I’d felt when my mother had been trying to protect me against the wrath of my biological father.

God, even at eight, I’d fucking hated him.

Wanted to protect her no matter what.

But it had been Mom who’d done the protecting.

She and Kale.

They were the ones who’d stood for what was right.

I swallowed hard. “Do you remember what you used to say . . . what you used to tell me when I was a little boy?”

She angled her head, brow pinched, unsure.

I lifted my hands.

THIS HOUSE IS LOVE.

It was an assertion we’d made.

A command.

A rule.

Tenderness filled her expression. “Of course, I remember.”

“That’s what I want, Mom. I want a house, and I want to fill it with love.”

“That’s always been my hope for you, Evan. I’ve always hoped you’d find love and you’d hold onto it . . . because there is nothing more wonderful than that.” Her eyes darted to the door. “Love her.” That gaze slipped to Everett and back to me. “Love him.”

She squeezed my hand.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life and one thing I hope you hold onto for all of yours—never let go of what you love most.”

Twenty-Six

Frankie Leigh

Evan was sprawled out, face down, his naked back exposed where he slept.

My tummy turned and a blister of the need that showed no hope of dying out seared through my body.

Not that I was complainin’.

But I was supposed to be to work in twenty minutes, and if I wanted to get there on time, I was going to have to tear myself from the warmth of his glorious body. I mean, I could just stay there all day, right?

I pouted a little.

Nope.

That was just not gonna happen.

I couldn’t go letting Aunt Hope down that way. Gettin’ flaky just because her son was back in town. But with everything, I wondered if she would blame me.

I crawled over him, running my nose from the sexy dimples just above his butt up the length of his spine, all the way into his hair. Breathing this boy in. There went my tummy again.

Yum.

He stirred, and I could feel the force of his smile where half of his face was pressed to the pillow. He flipped over and pulled me across his hard, chiseled body.

Flaking was sounding like a mighty good plan right about then.

“Mornin’,” he rumbled in his sleepy voice, that scraping sound wrapping me whole.

My favorite song.

One I wanted to listen to every single morning.

“Hey,” I whispered. “I’ve got to go.”

He tightened his hold. “No. Stay in this bed with me all day.”

A giggle slipped free. “Don’t tempt me. The last thing I need is my boss to come barging through the door later to find me here after Jenna said I called in sick.”

And I was pretty sure lovesick didn’t count.

A smirk tugged at his sexy mouth. “She won’t mind.”

I fiddled with a lock of his bedhead hair, voice going serious. “No, she probably wouldn’t, but I never want to let her down.”

Evan reached up and brushed the hair out of my face, cupping my cheek, staring up at me like I was his treasure.