Page 12

Twelve

Belle

When he doesn’t come back up in a few minutes, I start to worry.

Then my stomach rumbles again, and his order to remain naked and wait for him or not, I crawl out of bed, snag his tee, my underwear (both of which are scattered on opposite sides of the room, along with the rest of our clothes), and pull them on.

Then I head down the stairs.

Maybe dinner burned. Or he needs a hand carrying everything up.

But when I walk into the kitchen, I find it’s empty.

“West?” I call, noting my purse on the counter and the pot of soup on the stove and…

No sign of my hockey-playing boyfriend.

Maybe he’s in the pantry?

But he’s not.

Or the bathroom?

Nope. Not there.

How about the laundry room? Likely, I left some laundry in the washer that needs to be moved into the dryer.

Only, he’s not in there either.

“West?” I call as I wander back into the kitchen.

There’s no answer.

And the soup’s simmering on the stove, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the counter next to it…and next to those ?—

My throat threatens to close up.

The lease and information about the apartment Jace gave me this afternoon.

Something West has no explanation for—except for, possibly, the worst sort of one.

Because I jumped him the moment I walked in, and I slept with him—sleeping that didn’t actually involve sleeping because it was pure fucking. And I didn’t give him the words I was practicing on the way home, the words he needs to hear to know that I have no intention of leaving him again.

And…I didn’t tell him I love him.

I just fucked him and he found?—

“Shit,” I whisper, dread slicing through me.

Dread that whips hard and fast when I hear the garage door start rumbling down.

Oh, God.

He’s leaving.

I didn’t tell West I love him and he found those papers and now he’s leaving.

I dash for the hall, sprint toward the garage door, and am just reaching for the handle when it turns beneath my fingers, starts to swing inward.

West freezes in the slender opening, his brows dragging together. “Bella bee? What the hell’s the matter?”

“I—” But my words stifle up in my throat because he’s standing there. No, he’s slipping a hand through the gap in the door, nudging me back, and stepping inside. A heartbeat later, I’m in his arms, one of his hands on my cheek.

“Is Quinn okay?”

The question doesn’t make sense with the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. “I—” I shake myself. “Yes,” I say. “He was stoked for the sleepover, and I haven’t heard anything different.” All of a sudden, my heart convulses. Maybe that’s why West was taking a long time to come back up. Had something happened? “Did he call you?”

West’s fingers tighten slightly, confusion rippling across his face. “No, baby.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“So,” he says, cupping my jaw, “if the kid’s good, want to tell me why you looked so panicked a few seconds ago?”

I open my mouth, but that whirlwind of thoughts takes over again and my throat closes up, my words stuck inside my head.

You love him.

That voice comes loudest of all, quieting down the others.

And it lets my voice come.

“I love you!” I blurt.

His fingers flex again and his eyes go wide, and then he opens his mouth.

But now that my words have come, they don’t stop.

“And I know you saw the papers,” I say, “but I didn’t intend to leave without talking to you—or leave at all, really. Even if you want Quinn and I to get our own place, which is totally fine, of course?—”

“Baby—”

“But if you want us to stay, I want to stay and I know Quinn does too, even though it’s fast and a little bit crazy. But I love you and I love what we’re building and I wasn’t going to just disappear or force you away from us, I swear I wasn’t?—”

“Bella bee?—”

“My boss was pissed when he found out I hadn’t told him I was struggling and he all but shoved the papers into my hands, after paying the rest of Quinn’s medical bills. But I swear I wasn’t going to do anything without talking to you and Quinn both. And that’s not even touching the fact that my boss paid off my bills or that he’s grumpy and taciturn and…apparently, a teddy bear who cares about me and Quinn. And?—”

West slides his thumb over, presses it lightly to my blathering lips, stopping the flood of words.

“I knew you weren’t just going to go without a word, baby.”

I blink. “How?” I ask against that finger, the question slightly smothered.

“Because I know you .” His mouth kicks up. “And also because I wasn’t going to let you go.”

All the air in my lungs rushes out, something that’s made easier because his thumb is moving again, trailing lightly over my cheek.

“You weren’t?”

Now his mouth flattens out, his eyes holding mine, the fierceness in his gaze stealing my breath again. “No, baby. Because I love you too. Because I’ve known what my life is like without you, and now that I’ve gotten you back—gotten the bonus of having Quinn in my life for a short time—there’s no fucking way I’m letting either of you go.”

“You love me?”

He chuckles softly. “Truthfully, I don’t think I ever stopped.”

I inhale sharply, and he rests his forehead against mine.

“I get if you need time to be on your own,” he says. “But do it while I’m on the road, do it while we’re building our new us, and if you absolutely need to live on your own?—”

“I don’t,” I blurt, cupping the side of his neck, keeping him close. “I’ve spent long enough alone,” I tell him. “I’m ready to be here with you.”

God, his eyes.

They’re so fucking beautiful.

But I only get them for a moment because then he’s scooping me up into his arms, marching through the kitchen, and heading straight for the stairs.

“What about eating dinner?” I tease.

He pauses, slants his mouth over mine, kissing me until my lungs protest and teasing is the last thing on my mind. Then he lifts his head. “I’m eating you first.”

Heat twining through my insides. “Oh,” I whisper. “Okay, then.”

He grins and then we’re moving up the stairs again.

We’re hitting his bedroom, landing on the bed…

And coming together in the most beautiful way possible.

Which is why it’s much, much later, over bowls of soup, that I remember to ask, “If you weren’t leaving after finding the papers, why were you outside?”

He tugs a lock of my hair, smiles.

“You left the garage door open.”

I freeze then start laughing.

A new life. A bright future.

And one that’s a hell of a lot closer…

All because I left a door open.