I offer them, wincing at their battered state. Damn, I must’ve set them down harder than I thought. “Sorry. They took a bit of a beating.”
She takes them, brings them to her nose, and inhales. “They’re perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” I murmur, reaching out to run my finger over her cheek.
She shivers, peering up at me through her lashes. In that moment, a storm of emotion flickers in her eyes—yearning, hesitation, hope—which tightens my throat.
Fuck. I ache to taste her. I crave her lips on mine. It’s been far too long since I’ve kissed her, since I’ve held her close.
I miss her so fucking much.
Every day, I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how I fucked up so badly. How I lost the one precious thing in my life. Therapy has revealed so much shit. I lived in my childhood. I know what happened throughout it. The coldness, the neglect. The way my parents hated not just me, but eachother. Constantly fucking around on each other and rubbing it in one another’s faces. It’s like they were always trying to one-up each other. It was normal for me. That was all love was. A constant stream of betrayal, revenge, and coldness. Everything was just kind of cemented when I became friends with David and Jerica. Their parents are just as bad, if not worse, than mine are. When you add in Keaton cheating on Charlie after so many years together, the only thing I knew about love anymore was how warped it was.
Until Hayvin.
I just didn’t recognize what I was feeling—what I was seeing from her—until it was too late.
Thankfully, I’m working through it. Every session with my therapist leaves me a little lighter, as if I’m finally learning to breathe again.
I go to take a step away from temptation, but the light weight of Hayvin’s hand at my hip stills my movement. She pushes the flowers against my chest, using only one of her fingers to tangle into my shirt. The movement is light because the hold isn’t the tightest, but when she tugs, I follow. She surprises me when she lifts to her toes and brushes her mouth gently across mine.
Hayvin keeps it short and sweet. Her flushed face hints at joy as she steps back, gazing up at me with a happiness I haven’t seen on her while around me for months. It’s a clear shift from her previous guardedness.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, holding the door open in invitation. “I just have to put these in water really quickly.”
“I figured I’d leave the choice to you. You have two options. Bowling or Putt Putt. You love both, so it’s whichever you’re in the mood for. As long as I’m spending time with you, I’m okay with either.”
Hayvin beams at me as she fills a vase with water. “Oh. Let’s go bowling. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.”
“Bowling it is. Afterwards, we’ll grab a bite to eat and a drink.”
“Sounds good.”
Everleigh comes into the kitchen. “I’m going to head out. You two have fun.” She brushes her mouth against Hayvin’s temple. “Love you, babe.”
“Love you, too.”
Everleigh aims her index and middle fingers at her eyes before pointing at me. I nod solemnly, accepting her silent warning. I wouldn’t expect anything less out of Hayvin’s best friend.
“Evie, stay out of trouble. Don’t go landing yourself in jail.”
“No promises,” she chirps.
“I don’t know what you all are talking about, but if you need bail money or a talented lawyer, give me a call,” I tell her. “If it’s about some asshole, just tell me who I need to hurt.”
Everleigh’s lips twitch as she nods. “Appreciate that. I’ll keep you in mind.”
After Everleigh leaves, Hayvin switches off all the lights, follows me to the porch, and locks her house.
I hold my hand out to her, hoping I’m not overstepping. She slides her palm over mine without hesitation, and I twine our fingers together.
When she squeezes my hand, I glance down at her, only to find her already looking up at me.
“What?” I murmur, pulling us to a stop in front of my truck.
“Nothing. I’m just glad we’re doing this.”
“Really?”
