“Yes,” she whispers.
“Do it for me,” I say.
I half-expect an argument, but she stays silent. Carefully I remove my hand away from her eyes and find them closed. She isn’t sleeping, but at least she isn’t wasting any more of her energy.
Any other guy in my position would look away, but I don’t.
Seeing her like this warms my insides. The fact that she trusts me and feels safe around me. I never knew what that’d do to me—my heart. Since the first time I saw her, I’ve been wanting her to get this comfortable with me.
Reaching down, I caress her temple. The scar from a week ago is there and it will be for a long fucking time. Not wanting to get aggravated over it, I study the rest of her face and quickly realize how much I like her face.
It’s not just the face. It’s the whole girl.
Not wanting to wake her up, I pull back my hand and watch the sky instead. For a long time I hated looking at it, but now it feels like someone there is looking back at me and making sure I’m okay.
—————————
“Your mother knows about me!”Hope pales.
I park my car in the driveway and mention it to her so that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.
“Yes.” My lips twitch in amusement, but I turn serious. “Another thing that you didn’t tell me about.”
She pales further. “I’m sorry. I… I just thought you didn’t want me want me meeting your mom but at the cafe she was there and we started talking and I didn’t know what to do and?—”
Leaning over, I kiss her. “It’s alright.”
“I thought you’d hate me for talking to her?—”
“I could never hate you.Remember that.”
She opens her mouth but then shuts it. For that alone, I reward her with a kiss.
“But you should’ve told me,” I mumble against her lips.
She sighs. “I know.”
I nod. “Let’s go inside.”
Walking around the car, I help her out and then entwine our fingers.
I lead her inside. Her fingers shake and she moves slowly beside me.
“Relax,” I whisper to her as we pass the empty foyer.
“I am.”
“You are shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“Rose,” I raise our hands and plant a kiss on the back of her hand. “It’ll be fine.”
She lets out a breath. “I just want her to like me.”
“She already does,” I assure her. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and squeeze the anxiety out of her.
“Heath, is that you?” Mom calls from the living room.
