Page 52 of The Vows We Keep

“You did. But you moving in tomorrow and never leaving is the only option that has me rooting for it.” He runs a series of kisses up my neck to the base of my ear, and I squeal like a young girl.

“That still doesn’t mean it will be what I choose.”

He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Semantics.”

“Not semantics.”

He fills the cups with coffee and hands one to me. “The longer you keep trying to talk yourself out of this, the longer it will take to get all those things done on your to-do list.”

I roll my eyes. “You got any cream?”

“Nope. I take it black. But I can pick some up for you when I leave the tattoo studio.” He puts his cup down and opens a tin sitting on the counter. “Cookie?” The smell of cinnamon hits me.

“This early in the morning?”

“They’re oatmeal raisin. Practically breakfast.”

I take one because I’m starving. Last night we ordered pizza between bouts of sex. I bite into it, and the sugary goodness melts in my mouth. “Oh my God, these are so good.”

Niro kisses me, licking a crumb from the side of my mouth. “I’ll make them for you every day if you move in.”

“You made these?”

“I’m a good baker.”

“Jesus,” I say with far more energy than I intended. “I don’t know who you are, Niro. You fill that cut in a way that’s deadly. You kill people. You tattoo. You’re the club treasurer even though you don’t want to be. And you bake. Who are you?”

“I’m the guy who sees you.”

He says it quietly, yet I feel like I got punched in the heart. “Colton.”

When he wraps his arms around me, I don’t resist. Instead, I rest my forehead against his chest and sigh when he kisses the top of my head.

“What am I going to do with you?” I mutter.

“Accept me as I am. That would be a good start. And maybe I’ll try to ... you know ... be less confusing. Whatever.”

I lift my chin to look at him. “I need you to take the pressure off all this. I like you, Niro. More than I should and more than is probably healthy, given our situation. I want to just roll with this.”

He kisses me, only this time, his tongue searches for mine. We sink into the kiss, and for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists in the world. There’s something about his presence that anchors me.

When I think he’s going to undress me, he slows the kisses until they become chaste and sweet. “I have ADHD. I bounce around. A lot. But for you, I’ll try to wind it in.”

“Thank you.”

It’s snowing outside, so we take Niro’s truck. On the way to see Neva, he tells me about all the different things he does. When he said he bounces around, he wasn’t kidding. New ideas come to him in between a series of half-finished answers. His mind shifts so fast, but every now and then, I realize I see the connection, the leap he took from one subject to the next. I start reading his mental shorthand.

One thing that doesn’t move is the tattooed hand he plants on my thigh and leaves there the whole ride, occasionally squeezing, occasionally rubbing back and forth.

When we pull up outside the house Neva and I are using, Niro parks and moves to get out.

“I want to go see her alone,” I say as he reaches for the handle.

“No can do, chiquita.” I want to be the equal, not thelittle one, but my smile betrays me. “Your girl needs to know we’re cool. That you’re here by choice. She needs to see I don’t mean to hurt you.”

I take his hand and kiss his knuckles. “And you coming in there, with your cut and your GLOCK, isn’t going to convince her of that. She’ll think you’re controlling me. Let me go in there alone, show her I don’t need to run from you, and then leave by choice.”

Niro stares at me for a moment. I can see the side of his jaw twitch. “Fine.”