“I'm tired, Sierra.” My hands find her hips. “I'm so goddamn tired of looking across the room.”
Her eyes go wide. “Everett?—”
“Eleven years.” I scoop my hand under the straps of her camera, gathering the straps in my fist and tug her to me and off my bar.
She has no choice but to wrap her legs around my waist or fall.
She wraps, her warmth bleeding right through my jeans and into me.
I keep her camera clutched in my fist between us, dragging my grip up and down the warm, supple leather.
“Eleven years of watching you hide. Behind your brothers. Behind that lens. Behind every wall you've ever built.”
“I'm not?—”
“You are.” I glide my hand over her thigh until it disappears under the flannel. “You've been hiding since the day you told me it didn't mean anything.”
Her jaw tightens. “That's not fair.”
“No. It's not.”
Her gaze drops to my chest. To the sash. Something in her expression shifts—softens—and her fingers trace the edge of the fabric where it cuts across my shoulder.
“You’re wearing it.”
“Seemed appropriate for a two a.m. spiral.”
“Mountain Daddy.” Her thumb brushes over the lettering, and the corner of her mouth twitches. “It suits you.”
“The title or the spiral?”
“Both.” Her fingers curl into the fabric, tugging gently. “You earned it. The beard was... impressive.”
“Was?”
“I’m a sucker for glitter.” She drags her knuckle along my jaw, it took me close to an hour to scrub clean. “This works too. The kids loved decorating you guys.”
The touch is so casual. So intimate. Like we do this all the time. Like eleven years didn't happen.
I lift the pink satin up over her head and settle it around the both of us
She stares at me. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing it.”
“The sash?”
“The split.”I cup her face in my hands and she trembles.
Or maybe I am.
Maybe we both are.
“I'm done looking across the room, Sierra. I'm done with the distance. The pretending. The bullshit.”
“My brothers?—”
“Are asleep. And even if they weren't—” I press my forehead to hers. “I don't care. I'm done letting everyone else's rules keep me from you.”
