Evie wasn’t convinced—her arms folded tight, and her lips puckered into a frown. Addie was more understanding. Losing a mother at such a young age, coupled with being the eldest would do that to a girl. She’d had to grow up sooner than other girls would’ve.
The girls helped her finish packing up the closet and stripped the bed for her, in order to take the linens down to the laundry room. She reached out to hug them both at the same time, then picked up the rest of her things. She slid by them and went down the stairs first. Just in case one of them tripped, she could catch them—they were carrying all of the sheets.
“Anything else left up there?” Chris asked as Blythe walked by to take what she had to her car.
“Nope, I got it all.” She let out a chestful of air and gave him a melancholy smile.
“I’m sad you’re leaving. But if you’re going to move out, there’s only one place I’d want you to be—and that’s exactly where you’re going.” He walked through the screen door, still squeaking like the ancient thing it was.
She gave them all one last hug and waved out the window as she drove down the drive. She could see them in her rearview mirror, and a tear shed from the corner of her eye. She knew she would see them, probably even daily—but it was still change, and change was always hard.
She'd agreed to stay in Justin’s spare bedroom for a few weeks, just until the apartment was finished. She didn’t mind. She was excited to watch the apartment come together and then turn it into her own little space—without restriction.
Justin still wasn’t home from work when she pulled up to his house. He’d given her a set of her own keys, so it wasn’t a problem. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. It felt amazing—like she was opening a new chapter; like it was going to be a really good one. She placed her things in the spare room she’d picked and hurried to make them some dinner before he got back.
JUSTIN
He could smell whatever she was cooking all the way out on the porch. Italian, maybe? He thought he smelled garlic. A thrill shot through him as he thought of her inside his home, cooking in his kitchen, sleeping in his spare room… Hell, who was he trying to kid? Letting her sleep anywhere besides his bed now that she was there with him would be damn near impossible.
He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. He wanted to see what she was up to, without her knowing he was there. As he crept toward the kitchen he could hear her singing quietly.
Is that, Prince?
He watched his steps as he made his way closer. He could understand the words now. She was singing about a little red Corvette, and how it was much too fast and needed a love that would last. He knew the song by heart. It was just one more reason he was head over fucking heels for Blythe. She was a sucker for the classics, just like he was. He finally got close enough to grab her from behind as she stirred a mixture on the stove. His hands slowly snuck under her arms and wrapped around her middle, as he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know whose ass he’s talking about in that song, but girl, you’ve got an ass likeI’venever seen.”
He could see the goosebumps erupting over her arms as she melted into him like butter. He nipped at her ear before his lips found her neck, kissing down and over her shoulder. She wore a swooped neck top that left one of them exposed.
“I love it when you wrap me from behind. I loved it the first time, at Chris’s kitchen sink, when I told you to wash your hands before dinner…” She giggled, and he was surprised.
“Really…” He placed another kiss on her shoulder. “I thought you were passionately bothered by me that night? I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to do anything right.”
“Iwasbothered by you…but that didn’t mean my body felt the same.”
Justin chuckled and paused his kissing. “How was sayinggoodbyetoday? The girls okay?” He stepped to her side, leaning his butt on the counter so he could face her. Blythe continued her stirring.
“It was good. We were all a little sad, but it’s going to be great.” She gave him another smile when she heard the timer go off. He watched her turn down the burner under the pot and bend down to remove the bread that was toasting inside the oven.
“Does Chicken Alfredo with garlic bread sound good to you? If not, too bad, so sad, that’s what I made.” She winked at him, then set the cookie sheet with the toasted loaf on top of the stove.
“Sounds delicious. I’m always up for comfort food.”
Blythe chuckled and paused. “You know, I found everything I needed here. You always have essentials and even extras stocked and ready. Not many bachelors would be so smart.” She patted his chest proudly.
“Yeah, well, when you live so long with the cupboards empty and nothing in the fridge—and school is the only place you’re fed—you tend to overcompensate as an adult.”
Shit.He didn’t mean it to sound so terse.
Blythe looked a little like a deer in the headlights.“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I was always taken care of. My parents showered me with gifts and all the necessities of life. I had everything a child could ever dream of and more. They weren’t the hug and kiss type of parents, but a kid can survive without that. It’s not ideal, but it’s not life threatening.” She brushed a hand over his arm and continued. “You didn’t have any of that. You’re someone who was dealt an extremely unfair hand in life. You could’ve turned out the complete opposite of what you are.”
She was right—he could be a drunk somewhere. He could be in jail. He could’ve chosen to run with kids that would’vetaken him down even darker and more dangerous paths—but he didn’t.
“How are you so strong, Justin? How did you suffer what you did and turn out even better for it? I know things changed when they got you out, but sometimes a child with even the best parents doesn’t turn out half the man you are.”
“I chose to be better, Blythe. I saw my dad, and I knew my mom must’ve been hurting—deeper than anyone could’ve known, because no mother in her right mind would just up and leave her toddler. I understand how some kids end up in the abuse cycle and live their lives the same as the ones who raised them. But for whatever reason, that wasn’t me. I saw it all and hated it. I knew there was a better way to be. I looked back on where I’d been, and I promised myself I’d never go there again—and I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any future family I had there, either.”
By the time he was finished talking, Blythe was in his arms. No one who hadn’t lived through something as terrible as he had could understand the depth of the scars that came with it.
