He grins, leaning forward and placing a kiss on my bare shoulder.
“You called me Roy,” he says, his eyes a little brighter as he climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt off.
“I always call you Roy.”
“Not when you’re mad at me,” he says pointedly as he climbs under the sheets and turns off the light. “I’ve honestly never been so relieved to hear anyone call me Roy.”
“Anyone?” I tease as he pulls me against him, his naked chest against my back.
“You.” He presses another kiss to my shoulder, his palm splayed out against my stomach. “But don’t think I don’t know you’re fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not sorry,” I say, yawning and snuggling back against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his breath hot on my skin.
“It’s done. You’ve more than made up for it tonight.”
“Kins,” he says, pushing up on his elbow and rolling me onto my back, “I need the words.”
I can’t sleep without them.
He doesn’t say it but I canfeel ithanging in the air between us.
“I forgive you, Roy.”
Pressing a soft kiss to my lips, he exhales, the weight ofeverythingwashing over both of us in that breath as he settles back into bed and relaxes with me in his arms.
“Goodnight, Coach.”
“Night, Roy.”
16
ROYCE
I’d never wished for more time before—never wanted to prolong something for the sake of holding on to that moment a little longer.
But that’s exactly what’s happening with Kinsley.
Things shifted between us after the argument, making things both better andworse. I’d never really fought with anyone—not anyone that truly mattered.
My uncle and I had hashed things out over the years but it was different. We had an understanding, and his parenting style, more often than not, was to push me out of the nest to see if I could fly.
Sometimes I did.
Sometimes I didn’t.
The latter earned me a hearty pat on the back and ayou’ll get ’em next time, kid.
It’d been what I needed—he’dbeen what I needed and I didn’t take that for granted. So why had I done it to Kinsley?
I’d had nothing but time to think about it since she went to Blackstone Falls to see Nessa before going straight to her parents’ for Christmas. We hadn’t gotten a tree.
Or decorated.
Because you’re not a couple.
That little voice had been unhelpful, whispering to me at all hours of the day and night, and texting Kinsley hadn’t helped either.
