Page 51

He hobbles to grab his bag from the side of the house before walking through the front door. “I can sleep in one of the other rooms if you want.” I pout, my lip pokes out as I bat my eyelashes at him. He lowers his eyelids, taking on a predatory gaze, seconds before he’s stalking in my direction.

His massive body backs me against the wall, his leg sliding between mine.

His hips press into me, pinning me in place as his hand finds my cheek.

His eyes burning with desire, his face inching closer until I can feel his breath on my lips.

“Is this what you want, Abby?” he grinds out as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

My eyes track the movement, I’m dying to get my lips on his.

“You want me to show you just how much I missed you?” He rests a forearm on the wall above my head, his breath coming out shallow. He lets out a humorless laugh as his head shakes slightly, letting his eyes slowly close. “If your answer is yes, neither of us will be getting any sleep tonight.”

Words escape me, so I nod, my eyes never leaving his.

That’s exactly what I want. I want to be so lost in him that I don’t know where he starts and I stop.

I want to jump in the shower like we did last time we were here and burn away every hurtful word, every secret, every last thing that stands between us.

He dips his head and runs his nose up my neck, stopping when he gets to my ear, “All I want to do is love you.” His voice breaks, and I unravel. My body goes slack against his, he’s the only thing holding me up. It was always going to be him and I. I was stupid to think otherwise.

“I’m so sor ry, Abby, I pushed when I should have pulled.” He nips my ear, “God, I was blinded by my anger.” The hand that was on my cheek drops to my hip and squeezes. “There’s no one who hates me more than me.”

I can’t see him through my tears, but I feel him, I feel him everywhere.

My head hits the wall as my eyes fall shut.

I let his words stitch the shattered pieces of my heart back together one by one.

He kisses my neck, the warmth of his lips a stark contrast to how cold my skin is.

The sensation causes my hips to buck, and I feel him smile against me.

“You drive me up the freaking wall. But I couldn’t handpick a better woman for me than you.”

Kiss.

“You push me to be better in every aspect of life.”

Kiss.

“You get me out of my comfort zone, helping me forgive what I can’t forget.”

Kiss.

“You’re always in my corner, even when I don’t deserve it.”

Kiss.

The moment of silence that follows is heavy as we lock in a battle of wills.

The weight of everything left unsaid, how we left things when I walked away after his accident.

How our friends suffered from a fallout they weren’t even aware of.

It just seems to grow heavier as the silence stretches. I can’t take it anymore.

“Tate, please.” It comes out in a ragged whisper.

His lips slam against mine, his hands frame my neck in the most delicious way.

My hands snake up his chest, fisting his shirt as I pull him closer.

A hand leaves the side of my neck, weaving itself into my hair.

With a sharp tug, he pulls me from his lips, my eyes pop open as I gasp at the sensation.

His eyes are full of fire, fear mixed with desperation.

“Lie to me again,” he grinds out, “Tell me we won’t work, that you don’t want this, that you need more time, and I’ll walk out the door.

” The hand in my hair tightens at the same time his other hand finds the base of my neck.

I immediately melt into his touch. Hand necklaces are my favorite.

The safety I feel with his hand there, pinning me in place.

Taking control, emptying every single thought from my mind, other than I’m his.

Completely at his mercy, I know he’s got me; nothing can hurt me here. And I freaking love it.

His breath is hot against my cheek, coming out in deep, short pants. “I dare you, Abby.” A sob works its way out of my throat as my fists softly hit against his chest in frustration. His arms wrap around me as he holds me while I let go of all the bullshit that’s kept us apart.

I let go of every last thing I’ve been trying to control.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what I’ve been doing.

Trying to control the narrative by avoiding him.

Not letting myself hope that what we had before could still be intact after all this.

The fear of his rejection built the wall that kept me from jumping in and begging him to forgive me for keeping things from him.

When I finally pull myself together, I clear my throat and take a step back until his hands are resting on my shoulders.

His eyes look as heavy as my heart felt ten minutes ago.

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. This is where our relationship mends or breaks.

There’s no half in anymore, we’ve been afraid and hurting long enough.

There is no doubt in my mind that the man in front of me is my future.

So, I say what I’ve told myself I wanted for weeks now, every time my therapist would ask what the best possible outcome would be, this was it.

“Marry me, Sunshine.”

His eyes widen almost comically. “W-What?” he whispers, his arms dropping to his sides. If this weren’t such a pivotal moment, I’d laugh. Instead, I take his hands in mine and look up at the most beautiful man I’ve ever met and smile.

“I said, marry me, Sunshine.” Before I have a chance to take another breath, he picks me up behind my thighs, my legs circle his waist, and my high-pitched squeal cuts through the remaining tension.

In this position, I’m looking down at him.

His big, ocean blue eyes swim with tears as the most heart-wrenching smile takes over his face.

My hands frame his face as I bend down to kiss him.

It’s comforting, a promise that it’s us against the world.

No more miscommunications, no more jumping to conclusions, no more running to things I can control when something else is out of my control.

My life would be bleak without this man.

I only pull away when I feel something wet and cold slide between my fingers. Tears. Tatum Wilder is crying.

His head falls forward onto mine, “Don’t mess with me, Abby,” he sniffles, and my God, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever witnessed. I kiss my way across the bridge of his nose, making sure not to leave any freckle unloved, before I press my lips on his again.

“I’m not.” I unhook my legs from around his waist, sliding myself down the front of his body until my feet meet the floor.

My hands still cup his face as I brush my finger lightly under his eyes.

“You are my everything, Tate. There is nothing I want more than to wake up next to you every day.” I press up on my toes so I can kiss his chin, “I want to dance around the kitchen and sing into wooden spoons while you stand on the island and dance like you’re Magic Mike. ”

He scoffs as I press a kiss to his right cheek, in the spot between my thumb and pointer finger.

“I want to drive around aimlessly on the back of your bike like the backpack I was always meant to be.” He chuckles this time, the sound sending me the first jolt of happiness I’ve had since he ran me off.

“I want to rub your neck in the car while I annoy you with my awful singing.” I kiss his left cheek.

I take a deep breath, pulling at the courage I have left, something we’ve never talked about, but something I want with him so badly.

“I want to start a family with you.” His eyes widen as they fill with moisture once again.

“You’re it for me, Sunshine. I know it in my bones.

Why wait? Just be mine forever, dammit.”

He laughs through the tears streaming down his face, his forehead creased in thought. Our eyes lock on each other as everything slides back into place. My gentle giant, my tender-hearted storm cloud, my love. “Are you going to leave me hanging, or... ?”

He rolls his eyes, pulling me into his chest with a sigh of relief. “I’d marry you anytime, any day, Tink. I just can’t believe your controlling ass beat me to asking.”

The laughter that rolls out of us is loud, unhinged, and utterly ridiculous given the past few weeks. “Can I say no, then ask you tomorrow?” he says through his laughter. I swat him in the chest, then point my finger in his face.

“You say no, I’m walking out the door and not coming back. Don’t play with my emotions.” He grabs my hand and places a kiss o n the inside of my wrist, and that's when I see it. I grab his hand and lift his arm until it's level with my eyes.

“When did you get this?” I ask as I trace the pixie that’s tattooed on the peak of his bicep. It’s just an outline, but where the heart is on a human, there’s one on her, too. It's light purple, my favorite color. Our color, the one he painted the sky of our picture in.

Grabbing my hand, he places it over his heart.

I feel the speed at which it’s beating. Feeling his heartbeat is a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

“The day after I walked out on you.” He looks down at the ground before looking back up at me.

“It’s where you slept every night,” he huffs, “I asked while you were half asleep one night why you didn’t put your head on the pillow or fully on my bicep, both would provide more cushion than this spot. ”

He steps into me, grabbing my hands from his chest and lacing our fingers together.

“You said, and I quote, ‘it would be a crime to damage the guns on you. Plus, that’s where your Brachial pulse point is. I sleep better when I know your heart is still beating.’ If I couldn’t have you physically with me, I wanted something that’d keep me close to you.

I’ve fallen asleep with my head on my arm every night since. ”

He takes a shaky inhale, closing his eyes before he lets them slowly open and focus on me.

“I had every intention of figuring out who was behind all this, then coming back and begging for your forgiveness. I wasn’t planning on the second blow-up.

That one’s on me. I needed my little pixie, even when I made you think otherwise. ”

I stare at him wide-eyed, the man got a whole tattoo for me. “Wait, you sleep on your back, though.” I run my hand over the little pixie, her hair is pulled into a ponytail, in the exact spot he likes to put mine in before he tugs on it.

He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, angling my face to meet his, “Not since I left. I’ve been curled around the pillow that still smells like you.

” He kisses my temple. “Anytime I’m home, I put on the sweatshirt you always steal from me the moment you walk in the door.

” I smile, I do love that sweatshirt. It’s like a dress on me, but it’s old, and the material is super soft.

“And my head is attached to my arm when I go to sleep, pretending it’s you I’m cuddled up with. ”

Put a fork in me, I’m freaking done.

I place a kiss on the tattoo before I look up at him, “I mean, thanks for agreeing to be my fiancée, but I don’t have a ring. So...”

He stares blankly at me for a second before his head falls back in laughter.

God, I will never get tired of hearing that sound.

I mean, we could go to town and get one.

They have a little wedding chapel, we saw it last time we were there, but I have a feeling Hannah, along with Amy, would combust if we eloped.

“What’s that look for?” he asks. A permanent smile takes residence on his face.

“Just thinking how pissed Hannah and your mom would be if we got married at that little place we saw last time.” His eyes light up, and I know I’ve just sealed our fate.

Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?