With every bruised, beautiful part of me, I trusted Lachlan MacKenzie.
The ride back to Lachlan’s place was quiet.
Not the tense kind.
The full kind. His hand rested on my thigh, thumb tracing slow circles while he drove. No words. Just that comforting presence that anchored me more than any breathing technique ever had. The city blurred by outside the window.
When we entered his apartment, my attention trained on him. At the man who’d waited for me to stop running. At the man who looked at me like I was worth it—even when I didn’t believe I was.
I toed off a shoe, then the other. The soft lamplight cast shadows across the hardwood floor, and everything felt quieter than usual. Or was I less guarded?
Lachlan slipped his hand into mine and led me to the couch.
“You hungry?” he asked, voice gentle.
I shook my head. “Just tired. This girl had a long day.”
Though he didn’t push, I felt the urge to elaborate. Lachlan took off his hoodie and handed it to me without a word. I smiled and pulled it over my head. It swallowed me whole. Warmth clung to my skin, along with his scent, and I exhaled.
“I could get you a blanket?—”
“Boy, stop.”
“Girls run cold.” He shrugged. “That’s why I’m apuirmillionaire.”
“A what?” I grinned, reaching for him, fingers brushing over his massive forearms to his biceps, then slipped around the back of his neck.
“Puir. Poor. If you counted how many hoodies I own, you’d think I was broke.”
“Oh? I stealallyour hoodies.”
“Aye.” His low-throaty laugh burned me up with desire.
Things hadn’t been this dangerous for my heart since Greece. I embraced that danger rather than pushing it away. I wrapped my arms around his waist and attempted to squeeze solid muscle. Must’ve looked like I was hugging an oak tree.
We curled onto the couch, the TV off, no music. Just his arms wrapped around me from behind, my back pressed against his chest, and his breath warm against the crook of my neck. His fingers found mine, clasped them. Every so often, he’d press the softest kiss to the top of my shoulder. Like he couldn’t help it. Like he needed the contact to remind him I was really here.
And for the first time since he last touched me, I didn’t flinch from physical contact.
I wasn’t afraid of the memories.
Or the dark.
Lachlan’s arms were my shield. The rise and fall of his massive chess, a lullaby. The ache I carried around like armor loosened. When his heartbeat steadied against my spine, andhis breath slowed into sleep, I whispered, “I won’t run anymore, Lach. I promise.”
Come morning, when light poured in, we’d be here. Still holding each other down. Because I’d fight for Lachlan with all of me. And despite the lies that told me baseball came first, I knew he’d fight for me too.
31
LORENZO
She slept,tangled in the sheets, one leg half off the mattress like she was fighting zombies in her dreams. I hooded my eyes … suddenly realizing that because of her race, Rain’s light skin held a similar glow to Natasha’s.Natasha. Had to see more of her after we’d planted that stupid tree earlier.
I approached the crappy blinds and cracked them open. Night light from Crenshaw Boulevard spilled in blade-sharp. I watched Rain. Folded my arms. Narrowed my eyes. Imagined Natasha and our mingled scents.
Yeah, something refined. Coconut milk and rose. Not that cheap cotton candy crap cluttering my bathroom.Yuck. Rain Howard’s mouth was agape. Was that how Natasha slept? I couldn’t get close enough to her. Not in the way I wanted to because of where she lived.
Rain mumbled, shifted. I slid the burner phone into my hoodie pocket and took one last look at the laptop on the table. Still open. Connected to the classified surveillance software Rain borrowed last night before servicing me.
