That someone else would hurt her. Because the Drew I know would never do the things they’re saying.
Would never wreck someone’s home.
Not on purpose.
And knowing too may fucking men who lie and cheat and use women…
I’m sure our history doesn’t make me biased. I just know her.
Drew is the sweetest, most sensitive person I’ve ever met. If I had been here when Franklin targeted her…
I went nearly berserk when I heard. Came home to find her gone. But I couldn’t do anything then. And I can’t do anything now.
Drew sighs and tips her head to look at me, blinking those long lashes. “I could eat.”
I barely hide my smile. “That would be the munchies.”
I guide her to my back door and back inside. The pizza is cold, but she grabs a slice and shoves a giant bite in.
It’s such a small thing, but it puts me at ease. I grab the box and lead her to the couch with it.
And it’s almost like nothing has changed. We lounge like we have so many times before.
One of the crime shows we used to watch when she was a pre-teen is streaming on my TV.
I do my best not to stare at her. To remind myself that she’s back. Pinebrook hasn’t been the same without her. In fact, it’s been dull without her.
We settle into an old, easy silence.
Questions simmer at the edge of my thoughts. Like how long she plans to stay this time.
If she’s okay. Why didn’t she call or text the entire time she was gone?
Why it took her so long to come back?
She devours the second half of the pizza in record time, and slowly she falls over into me, her head against my arm and her foot drawing circles on the coffee table.
Drew huffs and grunts and nuzzles against my leather jacket.
She’s absolutely high.
It’s kind of adorable. She seems lighter than she ever has.
“You’re the best thing about being home.”
That hits me with a wave of warmth. She’s always been one of my favorites. Someone I seemed to get on with straight away.
But as she tugs at my sleeve, a new heat burns hotter in my very center. Because Drew is exactly the same person I’ve always known. Yet…
Drew’s also all grown up now.
So different, physically, that there’s no way for me not to notice the shape of her legs in those skinny jeans.
How they hug her hips, too. Her face has leaned out, cheekbones sharp, eyes wider, mouth poutier.
Noticing all of those things is inappropriate, yet the thoughts won’t leave me.
I look down into her pretty eyes, and she’s so much more than she was the last time.
