Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)
At least I don’t run like a pussy.
* * *
Hadley
Knock, knock.
I sit straight up in bed with my eyes glued to the door. The clock shows it’s possible—it could be Machlan. I stifle a nervous chuckle because if it’s not, it’s probably a serial killer, and I’m dead, and I don’t even care.
My back aches from the springs of the mattress. If I could’ve forced myself up more than once to pee since Machlan left, it probably would’ve helped. But I couldn’t.
I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this, and I’m not, really. Rationalizing it took some time, but in the end, this one is on me. I knew what I was getting in to. I pushed. I accepted his pushbacks, and I don’t regret it. I only need to temper any expectations that this will go anywhere. It won’t.
The knock raps again, a little louder this time. The covers are tossed to the side. Grabbing my phone in case it’s not Machlan and I need to call 911, I shove it in the pocket of my shorts like a girl who doesn’t care about her life.
“Who is it?” I ask, hand already on the knob. A bubble of excitement is on the verge of bursting as I wait for a response.
“Who else are you expecting at two thirty in the fucking morning?”
He came back.
Running a hand over my still-damp hair from the sponge bath I gave myself in the kitchen sink, I say a prayer and swing the door open.
“Never know,” I say, trying not to show how happy his arrival makes me. “Could’ve been the guy from the other day.”
“That would be your best bet. Pretty sure you could take him.”
He’s standing, both hands shoved in his pockets, the start of a grin on his face. The wear of the night shows in the puffiness of his eyes.
Despite the late hour and the trickiness of how we ended things earlier, he came back. I don’t know what that means, but it’s a good sign. I think.
I turn away to get myself together. The door shuts softly. I turn back around to see him standing in the middle of the room. He doesn’t touch anything. He doesn’t look anywhere but at me.
This is a look I can’t decipher. He doesn’t look angry or apathetic, just like a guy in the middle of a room.
“How was your night?” I ask to break the silence.
“It was good. I kept having to refigure tabs, and Navie had to balance the drawer at the end of the night, but it was a clean, bullshit-free night for the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“Yeah.” He rocks back on his heels. “I had a girl run me up a little. She had a mishap in the bar. Went to check on her and she ended up sticking her tongue down my throat.” He can’t contain his grin.
I can’t contain mine as I buckle with relief. “Not exactly how I heard it went down, but whatever works for you.”
“Oh, it definitely worked for me.”
Staring at the wall above the bed, pointedly not looking at Machlan, I will my face to return to its normal shade of peach. I tell myself to stay calm and not put too much hope into this. He’s walked away enough times after giving me something to hold on to.
“About earlier …” Machlan says. His voice resonates deep in my core. I’m drawn to the timbre of his voice, to the way it wraps around me in the gentlest of ways.
“I’ve overanalyzed it enough for both of us.”
“I don’t want it to be that way, Had.” He sighs.
“I don’t either. And I’m trying really hard to go with the flow but …” I look at him over my shoulder as my voice falls away.
“But it’s me and you, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s me and you.”
He reaches for me. I hold my breath until the tip of his finger touches the bottom of my chin. He lifts it so I’m looking at him.
Each breath I take is much louder than it should be. My blood runs hot while my body shivers at the tiny bit of contact; the contrast enough to make it feel like I’m losing my mind. I close my eyes to regain my composure, but he nudges my chin again, and I open them.
“I thought you’d come down tonight,” he says, peering at me. “Why didn’t you?”
My insides trip over themselves as I scurry to make sense of the mayhem I’ve been dealing with all night. It’s hard to pinpoint why I stayed up here and didn’t go to Crave. I wanted to. I wanted to so badly. But something changed when he walked out.
As I laid in bed and looked at it from every angle, the only difference in this time and most is that I had some control. I chose to spend time with him, knowing damn good and well it wasn’t going to end with some fantastical proposal. I came to town and went straight to the bar. I got in his truck. I let him hold me on Bluebird, and I sat down there tonight and received his advances while giving some of my own.