Because he had tried so hard to be sweet and caring. He brought me Black-eyed Susans. They were wilted by the time he got to my apartment but that didn’t matter. Because no had ever been so aware of what made me happy the way that he was.
I pulled my car up behind Flynn’s. He kept his mother’s old car in pristine condition; not caring that the model was over fifteen years old and he could easily afford a new one. It had belonged to his mom so he refused to drive anything else.
I could hear Murphy’s frantic barking inside the house, alerting everyone within a ten mile radius to my presence. I turned off the engine and grabbed my purse. I took a deep breath and readied myself.
I was nervous. So incredibly, irrationally nervous.
I was reminded of the first time I had shown up here after Flynn had moved back to Wellston. I had been more than a little wasted and angry that the boy I had blamed for all the wrongs in my life was back, turning my world upside down.
I had been hateful and bitter. And Flynn had only given me unconditional friendship and acceptance.
He took my resentment and my viciousness and he returned it with his love. He had saved me. He had empowered me.
He had shown me the person that I wanted to be.
“Are you going to sit there all day? It’s cold. Aren’t you cold?” His voice startled me and I jumped.
I put my hand over my thumping heart. “Shit, you scared me.”
Flynn stood on the other side of my car door, hands in his pockets. He still wore the khakis and button down shirt that I had come to associate with him. His dark hair was still on the longish side, falling messily across his forehead. He looked both different and the same.
His shoulders, that had always been slumped, as though he wanted to fold in on himself, were now straight. He stood upright. And his green eyes, dark and untroubled, stared straight into mine. They didn’t look away.
“I’m coming,” I said, opening the door and grabbing my bag, throwing it over my shoulder. Murphy jumped up, his large paws landing firmly in the center of my chest. He knocked me back into my car door.
“Oomph,” I gasped, scratching the dog behind the ear just as I knew he liked it. I loved this giant ball of fur almost as much as I loved Flynn. Our connection was just as strong as any I had ever had with an actual person. It had been a special kind of fate that the dog I had cared for at the shelter had found his way into Flynn’s life.
Murphy’s tongue came out of his mouth to lap at my chin and I turned my head to avoid a face full of dog saliva.
“Get down, Murphy,” Flynn’s deep voice said flatly as he tugged on his dog’s collar. “He’s happy to see you,” he pointed out.
I wiped the slobber from my face. “The feeling’s mutual. Though I could do without the spit bath.”
Flynn didn’t say anything. He didn’t move away and he didn’t bridge the gap between us. The air was cold but I barely felt it.
My eyes found his again and clung to deep, soulful green like a lifeline.
This is what I came back for. Standing here in front of me.
This was worth everything.
We stared at each other for an endless minute. The reality of the moment hitting each of us with an intensity that filled the silence with unspoken words.
“You’re home,” Flynn said, his unemotional voice at odds with the hopeful gleam in his eyes. I had never seen his feelings so clearly expressed on his face. His thoughts and needs were there, painted on clearly for me to see.
His words struck me with a resonance that I felt deep in my bones.
Home.
No word had ever sounded so foreign to my ears yet felt so right in my heart.
Home.
Because I knew that I had finally, after all this time, after the years of searching, found a home, a place to belong, in the waiting arms of the boy who had once, long ago, promised me his friendship. And who now promised me forever.
I smiled. An expression that still felt strange on my lips. I had spent most of my life not having much to smile about. But with Flynn it was easy to grin. It was easy to laugh. It was easy to feel pretty freaking fabulous.
“I’m home,” I repeated.
