I didn’t plan on telling her about my shady past. Didn’t plan to crack my chest wide open and lay the bones bare. But Lot didn’t judge. She looked at me like I was something good, something worth loving. I wanted to grab hold of it like a found treasure. Wanted to tell her I’m the man she needs. The one who sees her. Who accepts every snarky, messy, independent, brilliant, and beautiful part of her.
It was easier to just play house in the dark. To fool myself into believing none of it was real. Now I have to face the truth. Docks won’t be mine to run solo anymore. Maurice coming back means suspicious eyes and less room to breathe. Lot’s out tomorrow, back to her city, to her life.
And me? I’ll still be right here, doing my best impression of a carefree man who’s got it all together.
But I don’t.
And for the first time, I’m not sure if I can go back to pretending that I do.
When Lot stirs soon after, I press a kiss to her shoulder.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Mornin’,” she murmurs as her drowsy eyes search mine. “Sleep okay?”
“Like a log. You’re more potent than a tranquilizer.”
She gives me a corner-lipped smile, but she’s already kicking off the sheets. “What time is it?”
“Around ten thirty. Checkout’s not till noon. We could order brunch.”
“Just coffee for me. Today’s busy. I should get back as soon as possible. Sort out Queenie. Say my goodbyes. Pack.”
She’s on the run now. I know her. I know what avoidance looks like dressed up in busyness. She’s winding herself up, prepping to leave with a quick economy. No emotions.
“Just gonna get ready,” she says, climbing to her feet.
My eyes trail her as she walks across the room. I enjoy the view, but not the energy.
Less than an hour later, we’re dressed, packed, and on the roadwith coffees and breakfast sandwiches to-go. Lot scrolls on her phone while the sounds of Cameo pump between us.
“Any word from your mom?” I ask.
“Nope. Nothing. No news is a good sign, right?”
“Should be.”
“Then again. She’d just manage rather than ruin my trip with you.”
That has my head snapping to face her. “I assumed she thought you were with Rayne.”
“No. She put it together and knew we weren’t justhanging out.”
“Damn.” I return my attention to the road. “What does Miss Belinda think of that?”
“She knows we’ve always been close.”
“Close and sleeping together are two different things.”
“I’m a grown-up, Dice.”
“I know that. But I don’t want her to think I’m disrespecting you. I like your mom. I should say something.”
“You better not.” She side-eyes me in warning. “Mom likes you too. She knows you’re not disrespecting me. I promise. So just… don’t.”
I nod, agreeing to abide by her wishes, but still feeling a way. “Maurice must be loading his shotgun.”
“He doesn’t have a gun.”
