Page 37

My gaze lands on his SUV parked close to the house. How’d I miss that? “It’s freezing. Why are you outside?”

“One thing at a time.” He curls his arm around my waist and drags me closer. Chilled leather brushes my cheek. How long has he been out here?

He leans down and seals his lips against mine. He swallows my sharp squeak of surprise and cups the back of my head, holding me in place. Our lips slide together with a firm, delicious pressure that chases the cold out of my body, replacing it with a simmering warmth.

Dizzy from the rise in temperature and change in my evening plans, I pull back and stare up at him.

“I missed you today,” he says simply.

Another fraction of my annoyance with him ebbs away. “Come inside,” I whisper. “You’re freezing.”

“I didn’t want to startle you and meet you outside the garage.” He takes my hand, and we walk up the steps to the back door. He holds open the screen door for me while I unlock the door.

“You could’ve sent me a text telling me you were here.” I glance over my shoulder at him.

His serious expression doesn’t change. “I didn’t want to risk you telling me to go home.”

“I wouldn’t have done that.” I step into the house with him right behind me. The door closes behind us with a soft click. Most of the lights are off downstairs.

I shrug out of my coat and hang it on a hook by the front door. Jigsaw glances at it and then the stairs.

“You can leave it down here if you want. Your truck’s parked right outside,” I point out. “Seeing your coat won’t shock anyone.”

He chuckles and slips it off, pulling out his keys and phone, tucking them in his jeans pockets.

The long day grinds into me, each step up to my apartment heavier than the last. Jigsaw trails behind me, close enough that his breath skims the back of my neck.

As soon as I open the door, Gretel trots over with a chirp, tail high and twitching.

“Let me feed her,” I say, stepping inside.

“Can I watch?”

I turn and stare up at him, mouth open. “You want to watch me feed my cat?” I ask slowly.

He shrugs. “In case you ever need me to do it for you?”

“Uh, okay.”

Gretel doesn’t seem to mind the audience. She dives face-first into her dish the second I set it down, purring like a machine.

“I’m going to change,” I mutter, already halfway to my bedroom.

Restless, irritated energy pulses through me. I hurry into my room and into my closet, searching for something cozy.

When I emerge, in my red flannel pajamas, I smack right into Jigsaw’s hard chest.

He slips his arms around me and leans in, gaze dropping to my mouth like he’s ready to finish what we started outside.

“Oh no you don’t.” I plant both palms on his chest and push—harder than necessary, but not enough to move him.

“What?” He nuzzles against my neck, inhaling like my scent gives him life.

Everything I’ve been feeling since I woke up alone this morning explodes out of me in a rush. “You can’t keep disappearing on me, then come back and use your magic dick to make it all better. Then do it again. And again.”

He draws back, amusement playing over his lips. “Magic, huh?”

I slap his arm. “Of course you focused on that .”

He sighs and rakes his hands though his hair, leaving it sticking up all over the place. “I told you I wasn’t good boyfriend material. Not good at relationships. I’m not…I don’t know how. I’m trying.”

Misery and frustration fold around him like a cloud.

As annoyed as I am, he has a point. His silences have shortened. Heck, he even called a few hours after leaving this morning. For him, that’s a big improvement.

Is it enough for me, though?

“You’re right,” I say.

He tilts his head, like he didn’t hear correctly, and I don’t even think he’s being sarcastic.

“I’m sorry,” I continue. “I know you’re trying. I want to give you space when you need it?—”

“I don’t want space.” He hugs me tight against his body. “I want to permanently attach myself to you. But I think you’d get sick of me fast.”

Is that what he’s doing? Trying to leave before he gets left? “I never get tired of you. I do get tired of feeling uncertain about us .”

“The only thing I’m certain about is how I feel about you.” He closes his eyes and exhales a slow breath. When he opens them again, he seems sad or tired. “I don’t want you to see me at my worst and bail.”

Well, that’s something I understand . “You think I don’t worry about the same thing?”

“It’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” I insist. “You’re not as complicated as you think you are.” A list of things I know are true come to mind, and I give him each one. “You came from an awful situation. You survived. You righted some wrongs. And you’re a good man.”

“I’m definitely not a good man.”

“Strongly disagree.” I tap his chest. “We’re using my metrics here. No one else’s.”

His lips quirk.

“You’re loyal and kind?—”

“No, I’m not.” He laughs. “I’m grumpy and mean to people all the time.”

“Well, people shouldn’t be annoying, then.” I shrug. “You’re loyal to your brothers. You’re kind to me. You take care of your sister. A lot of brothers would’ve told her she’s on her own.”

“I do that out of guilt , Margot.”

“That you feel guilt at all means you’re a decent person. But I don’t think you have anything to feel guilty about. And I have a feeling Jezzie would agree with me.”

He frowns and his lips part as if he wants to warn me to leave Jezzie out of it.

“I didn’t say I’m going to ask her,” I say. “That’s for you two to work out. But I have a feeling she’s not as mad at you as you think.”

“Margot—

I don’t want to derail our conversation. “I want you to be yourself with me. That’s what love is. Isn’t it? Seeing your person at their worst and loving them anyway?”

He frowns. Like this is a novel concept.

“My love isn’t conditional. I like you.” I poke my finger in his chest. “Who you are today.”

“Today, I’m a man who snuck out of your bed early in the morning.”

I blow out a long breath. “Yes. And yet here you are tonight.”

“I missed you.” His voice softens. “It ended up being a good day.” He stares at me with such a serious expression, I almost doubt his claim. He taps the side of his head. “I had your voice in here, reminding me to give Cain a chance.”

“You did?”

He nods quickly. “And after I left his place, there was no one else I wanted to talk to about how things went.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah.” He lifts one shoulder. “You did it.”

“What did I do?” I tilt my head, watching him carefully.

“You pushed me to go see him. I would’ve waited… dragged it out longer if you hadn’t.” His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer. “So, thank you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

“You’re welcome.” I rest my hands on his sides, fingers curling into his T-shirt. “I don’t mean to be so pushy.”

“Sometimes I need a push.”

“I think we all do.”

For a long moment, we just breathe together in the quiet.

Jigsaw

Demons give me strength.

I can’t believe I said all that mushy shit that’s been swirling around in my head out loud.

And she listened to all of it. And she still wants me here.

“Have you eaten?” she asks.

“I can always eat. You know this.”

She lightly taps her fist against my stomach. “So unfair. Come on. I’ll make you a grilled cheese.”

“Won’t say no to that.” I follow her out of her bedroom. “You mind if I change too?”

She glances over at me. “Not at all. I want you to be comfortable here.”

I head down to her laundry room, searching for the black sweats she likes and slip those on. Then grab a T-shirt.

“You know,” she calls out, “you can start leaving your stuff in the bedroom instead of the laundry room.”

I laugh, tugging the shirt over my head as I make my way back into the kitchen.

She’s already at the stove, so I drop onto one of the stools at the counter and rest my elbows on the edge, watching her work. She slaps a thick slice of buttered bread onto the sizzling griddle, layers it with rounds of creamy cheese, and crowns it with another slice.

“Forgot I’d been officially upgraded to closet space,” I tease.

Without glancing away from the stove, she smiles. “So, how’d it go?”

While the sandwich sizzles on the griddle, she goes to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of sparkling water.

“It was kinda awkward at first. Heh. I discovered he was squatting at the hotel. I guess he stayed one night, then he was like, sleeping in the bathroom after dark, popping out in the morning to nab some food from the breakfast buffet, staying out for the day, then sneaking back in at night.”

Margot sets the bottle in front of me and leans against the counter, crossing her arms tight over her chest. “He was squatting at the hotel?” she repeats, her voice soft but edged with disbelief. “Sleeping in a bathroom? That’s awful.”

“Nah, it’s clever.” She and I see things so differently, don’t we? “He said it wasn’t that bad.”

Her nose wrinkles like she’s trying to hold back a wave of emotion. “No one should have to do that. Especially a kid.”

“He’s not a kid.”

“He’s still a teenager,” she insists.

“He’s a survivor.”

“It still…shouldn’t be that way,” she says.

“Well, it’s not anymore.” I uncap the water and take a sip. “He was really excited about the apartment.”

“I bet.” She hesitates. “Wait, so he’s there all alone in a new place now?”

I shrug. “I don’t think we’re at the sleepover stage of our relationship, yet. One step at a time.” I pick up my phone and glance at the screen. A few group chat notifications. Nothing I need to answer now. Nothing from Cain. “He has my number if he needs something.”

“Good.” A relieved smile spreads over her face. She slides a spatula under the sandwich and lifts it off the griddle, setting it onto a plate and cutting it into quarters with methodical precision.

Why didn’t I just listen to her? I didn’t have to get so prickly when she just wanted to help.

My mouth waters as she sets the sandwich plate in front of me, cheese spilling out of the sides. I pick up one of the quarters, instantly searing my fingers.

“Ow.” I drop it on the plate.