“Yeah.” He did, too. “Trent’s parents came to see me tonight.”
“And it didn’t go well.”
“No. And then I lost my cool, which was stupid.”
“You’re only human, and they’ve been awful to you.” She ran a hand down his back. “You did wait until after they’d left to punch your fist through the wall, though, right?”
He choked on a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Good.” She smiled, but it looked sad. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be your chance to finally set things right with them.”
“Yeah. I was hoping that, too.” And now he felt only a bone-deep weariness. “Trent’s an adult now, legally. They can’t stop him from visiting, but I hate for the kid to feel like he has to choose between us.”
“They never should have kept you apart,” she said softly.
“No.” In that word, he felt all the pain come crashing down on him, the pain of being an eleven-year-old kid all alone in the world, of being an eighteen-year-old who’d aged out of the system with nothing to show for it. No home, no family, no place in the world. The pain of all the years he’d spent searching for Trent, when all it would have taken was one phone call from the Lamars to set it all right.
* * *
Emma was still in bed when Ryan left the next morning. They’d been up late,reallylate, and she wasn’t feeling in any hurry to move. She rolled over, replaying in her mind the naughty things they’d done on his motorcycle. Ryan pushed her outside her comfort zone, except he didn’t—because he was never the one pushing. She pushed herself out of her comfort zone when she was with him, and she liked that. Shereallyliked that.
She liked everything about being with him, and she wasn’t even trying to deny—to herself at least—that she was in love with him. Nope. She was all in, but she was a big girl. She’d always carried a torch for Ryan, and she could continue to bear it after they broke up.Ifthey broke up. Because she wasn’t an idiot. This thing between them wasn’t just sex.
He’d come to her last night when he was hurting. He’d opened himself to her, let her comfort him. They’d shared things, done things, that spoke to a much deeper connection.
Would he ever be ready or willing to admit it? She didn’t know. For now, she was content with things the way they were. They’d only been together a few weeks, after all, and Ryan was still adjusting to a more stable life here in Haven.
If she got accepted at the University of Georgia, then it would be time for them to have a serious talk about their future together. Otherwise…
With a sigh, she climbed out of bed, sending an offended Smokey stalking off in the direction of the living room. Already naked from her mostly sleepless night with Ryan, she headed straight for the shower.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror stopped her. Her tattoo had gone through an icky, scabby phase while it healed, but now…now it looked…wow. She touched it with a smile. It was pretty and sexy and feminine. She loved it even more than she’d thought she would.
The poppy represented both her work and her love for her brother. It reflected so much about her, but it was private. No one had to see it unless she showed them. Yeah, she loved it. It was perfect.
With a happy smile, she stepped into the shower. Now that it had healed, she could take hot showers again. Long, hot showers. Or soak in the tub. Both sounded good, but right now her stomach was instructing her to hurry so she didn’t linger too long beneath the shower’s hot spray. Instead, she hopped out, dressed in a white tank top and jeans, and headed for the bakery. She was starved, and only one of Carly’s cinnamon buns would do.
“Hey there, stranger,” Carly said with a wide grin when she walked in.
“Hey yourself.” Emma snagged a seat at the counter.
Carly set a cup of coffee and a plate with a cinnamon bun in front of her with a smile.
“Am I that predictable?” she asked. “Yeah, I am, and I don’t even care.”
“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” Carly said. “So how are things with Ryan?”
“Good.” She sipped her coffee with a happy sigh. “Really good, actually.”
“You do have that happy glow about you,” Carly said, eyeing her up and down.
“That might be partly due to what you’re feeding me,” she said around a mouthful of cinnamon bun.
“Aw, you’re sweet, but this looks like more of a man-made glow.”
“The glow of someone who…” She lowered her voice, giving a sly glance around her. “Gave a blow job on a motorcycle last night?”
Carly’s eyebrows lifted. “You naughty girl, Emma. That sounds technically…awkward.”
