One glance and I see his name across the screen.
Marie grins as she watches me take the call.
“Hi,” I say before he can speak.
“Hi, Rose.”
Just the sound of his voice fills me with an unexpected sense of peace
“Are you okay? What happened?” I rush out.
“I’m fine. Everything's fine. Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it.”
“They didn’t suspend you, right?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
He chuckles. “I promise.”
Marie nudges me and shoots me a ‘I told you’ look. Then, her phone starts ringing, and she goes into the bathroom to talk to her boyfriend.
“Seems like you were worried about me.” Heath teases.
“I was. I couldn’t stop thinking about?—”
“I’m fine, baby.”
Relief wraps around me, and I feel like I can breathe again.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
My heart strings get pulled. “I am.”
It takes him a moment before he speaks, “I’m coming to pick you up. Grab your stuff.”
Five minutes later I’m in his car and we’re going to his house.
For once, his parents aren’t home. I’m scared to face them again, especially after the last conversation we had. They know about me and what happened. I can’t bring myself to tell them that I won’t be a problem for their son. That it’s my family not me. I love their son and want to be with him.
They have to understand.
Heath grumbles all the way to the bathroom where I take him so I can apply ointment to his wounds. There’s a small cut on his bottom lip and a few scrapes on his knuckles. As I work on him, he stays quiet and watches me. I try to be as gentle as I can be.
Once I’m done, he picks up my hand and brushes a soft kiss on my fingers and mutters, “Thank you.”
I’m pretty sure my heart stops beating.
Taking my hand, we return to his room where he shows me the huge pile of books that I bought in the city and suggests I put them on the shelves.
It’s late in the evening when we finish arranging all the books onto the book shelf. He helps me, then leans against the wall and watches me like a hawk.
I blush under his unmoving, steady gaze that says I’m the most captivating thing in the world and he can’t look away.
“I can’t wait to read them all,” I say, admiring the books that line the shelves. There are so many. My book wall is nothing compared to it.
Thinking about it sends a pang of pain through my chest. At least these books will forever be safe.
