Page 45 of Until the End (The Lost Letters #3)

Michael

I ’m not looking for her. I’m simply seeing who made it to the family barbecue and who didn’t.

Although she should be at this one. She graduated from vet school last weekend. I figured she’d be home by now.

So where is she?

Nope.

Not thinking about her. I don’t care what she’s doing.

“You okay?” Ryan asks, handing me a beer. I haven’t had my allotted one drink yet tonight, which I’m sure he’s aware of, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought this over to me.

“Fine.”

He gives me a look that says he knows I’m full of shit. Thankfully, he doesn’t push. He’s gotten pretty good at reading when he can get away with forcing me to talk. Tonight is not one of those nights.

I’m restless.

My skin is crawling with the need to do something.

Anything.

I might take my bike out tonight. I don’t ride it a lot. Being a police officer, I’ve seen my fair share of motorcycle accidents. But when I start to itch with impatience, I’ll ride around for an hour to help ease the restlessness.

“Did you hold baby Nina yet?”

I look across the room, where Carson is holding their little girl while Ginny talks with Lottie and Gia. I shouldn’t be surprised that they went with the name Ginny loved the most. Carson would walk over hot coals to give her whatever she wanted.

“Not yet. I’m not sure I’m cut out to hold a newborn.”

Ryan gets a soft look in his eye as he stares at the couple. “They’re not so bad. It’s sort of like holding a potato.”

I snort. “Interesting comparison.”

“Shut up. I just meant that they don’t really do anything other than sleep.”

“I’ll probably wait until she’s a little sturdier.

” Maybe. I have a hard time with touching people and them touching me in return.

I’m not sure how I would react to holding a baby, and I don’t really want to risk it.

Over the years, touching others has gotten easier, but it still makes my skin crawl when I’m not ready for it.

Even when I am, it makes me uncomfortable.

This family is a bunch of huggers, so I didn’t have much choice but to get used to it. Although that’s not entirely fair. They’re always careful not to touch me unless I initiate the contact. And I try to do it when I can. I don’t like seeing their understanding faces when I’m not up for a hug.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, expecting to see dispatch trying to get in touch with me. I’m always on call since I don’t have a wife or kids or anything. I don’t want the other deputies in town to give up their family time when I’m capable of taking the call instead.

My stomach flips when I read the caller ID. I walk up the stairs of Lottie’s parents’ basement to find a quiet place to talk.

“Adalaide.”

“God, just listening to you say my name makes me hot.”

I frown. “What?”

“There’s something about your deep, sexy voice that gets me every time.”

“Are you drunk?”

She giggles. “Yep. It’s wonderful.”

Before I can respond, a man’s voice can be heard through the speaker. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Adalaide. Do not drink that. You have no idea what could be in it.”

“Pshhhh. It’s fine. I watched the bartender make it.”

“You’re drunk. You’re not perceptive enough to know if he put something in it.”

“You’re an asshole. A big, sexy, handsome asshole.” She sighs.

Fuck. I run my hand through my dark hair. “Where are you, Adalaide?”

“At a bar.”

“What bar and where?”

“Ummm. I don’t remember. Somewhere in Greensboro. Hey, you…”

“Hey, beautiful,” a guy says.

I growl.

“Ooooh. That was hot. Do it again.” Adalaide’s tone is indecent.

“Uh, hey, beautiful?”

“Not you. Michael, make that sound again.”

I sigh and rub my hand across my face. This is going nowhere fast. “Adalaide. Tell me what bar you’re at.”

“Oh! Right. Um, what’s the name of this bar?” she asks the guy.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me your name, gorgeous.”

“Ew. No, thank you.” There’s a pause, and then, “Hey, what bar is this? ”

“The Salty Dragon,” a woman says.

“Really? What an awful name.”

“I know, right? Good drinks, though. And hot bartenders.”

“So. True.”

I growl again, and I will never admit to doing it on purpose just to get Addie’s attention. “I’m on my way. No more talking to other guys. Stay with whoever you’re with right now. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fuck. I know she’s teasing me, but the way that word rolls off her tongue sends a shiver down my spine.

I hang up with Addie and send a text to Ryan to let him know I’m leaving.

Running out to my truck, I say a quick thank you to my past self for parking on the street to keep from getting blocked in.

Then I’m on the highway, headed to Greensboro to find the one woman who has always been the exception to every rule I’ve ever made for myself.

The Salty Dragon looks exactly like every other bar I’ve been to—a wooden bar top, tables scattered around the edge of the dance floor, and some pool tables on the other side of the room. I search for the dark brown curls that have haunted my dreams since I was a teenager.

I find her standing at a high-top table, surrounded by guys and only one other woman. I push my way through the crowd, not giving a single fuck about being polite.

“Adalaide.” I cross my arms over my chest to keep from hauling her over my shoulder like a caveman.

She turns toward me with the biggest smile. “Hi, Michael.”

“It’s time to go. ”

“Oh, but I was just getting to know my friends.”

“Yeah, what’s the rush? Let her stay,” some puffed-up frat boy interjects.

I step in close to Addie and throw my voice low so only she can hear me. “I swear to god, Adalaide, I will throw you over my shoulder if you don’t walk out of here with me right now.”

She shivers at my tone, but I can’t decide in what capacity.

That is, until I lean back and note that her eyes have gone glassy with desire.

With every ounce of self-control I have, I grip her biceps and pull her with me.

Those assholes didn’t even put up a fight.

I could’ve been anyone, yet they let her go with me without a fuss.

Fucking idiots. It’s a good thing I got here when I did.

“You can let me go now.” Addie huffs, but I don’t release her until we get to the passenger door of my truck.

I open it for her and then grip her hips to lift her inside.

I ignore her gasp as well as my own body’s reaction to having my hands on her.

The slinky little black dress she’s wearing feels like silk under my hands, and the hemline slides up high on her thighs.

Ripping my gaze away from her tan skin is as difficult as telling my body to stop breathing.

“What the fuck was that all about, Adalaide?” The words are gravel in my throat after not speaking for half an hour. We’re almost home, and I need to know what’s going on with her before we get there.

“I don’t know.” Her voice is small, as if she’s about to get in trouble.

I sigh and soften my tone. “This isn’t like you. You’ve never gotten drunk like this before.”

“I’ve been drunk plenty of times.”

“Maybe, but never like this. Never to the point where you feel like you have to call me.”

“I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was fine.”

“So, what, you just wanted to see how my day was? You never call me.” I try to keep the hurt out of my voice. We used to be close before she went to college. Now we’re practically strangers to each other.

“No, I just…”

“You just what?”

“ Idon’twanttobeavirginanymore. ”

My brain shuts down for half a second while the words she said in a rush compute. In the time it takes me to formulate a proper response—not that ‘what’ is much of one—she’s spewing out words so fast I’m worried she can’t breathe.

“I went to that bar hoping to find someone to finally take my virginity, but I got nervous, so I started to drink, and then the more I drank, the more I thought about you and how I didn’t want some random guy to take my virginity.

I wanted you to do it, so I called you. But then I chickened out again, except my drunk self just called you sexy, which is true, but beside the point, and?—”

“Adalaide, breathe. Take a deep breath, baby.”

She sucks in air as if she was drowning. I have no idea what to say in response to her admission. How are you supposed to respond when your best friend’s little sister tells you she wants you to take her virginity?

Silence hangs heavy in my truck cab as I pull into her parents’ driveway.

I grab her arm, stopping her from running away from me. As usual, I wait for my body to revolt at the feeling of her skin against mine, but it never comes.

Before I can think too hard about it, words tumble from my mouth. “You will not allow some random asshole to take your virginity. Do you understand me, Adalaide?”

She looks at me with those wide chocolate-brown eyes and nods her head.

“No one is allowed to touch you but me.”

THE END