“I’ve missed you,” I say. His arms open for me, and I’m in them, wrapping myself around him. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his perfume and something more. Something that makes my heart race inside my chest. “You smell like Dean.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and smiles. “He, uh, picked me up off the side of the road, and things got a little heated. Apparently, there is enough room in a Mustang to do more than kiss.”
My cheeks heat, and I pull back to study him a little better now that I’m closer. There’s a slight flush to his face, and the hesitance I sensed when he came in is in his eyes.
“Are you upset?” he whispers.
“Upset?” I ask, confusion at his question filling me. “That you were with Dean? Of course not. Why were you walking on the side of the road?”
He swallows. “My father kicked me out.” He shrugs, stepping around me as if he didn’t just drop a bomb, acting like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t matter. “It looks like you got a lot done here the last couple of days.”
I stop just behind him as he stares at the canvas. His eyes narrow, focusing on the figure in the painting—him, reclined in a chair, the beginnings of a pouty smile on his lips, his soulful eyes watching me through the brushstrokes.
“You’re painting me?” He turns slowly, meeting my gaze with a mix of surprise and something else, something softer. “From memory?”
My heart skips. “It was going to be a surprise,” I say, feeling nervous now as his attention lingers on the portrait.
His gaze traces every detail like he’s trying to see something in the lines I’ve painted. But I know this is his way of avoiding what’s really going on. He did it before. I press my lips together, debating on how to ask him if he’s okay—which of course he isn’t. Finally, I take a breath. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He lifts his eyebrows, pulling his attention away from the painting. “About sex with Dean or my father being a complete asshole?”
I can’t help but laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of this. “Both if you want.”
Chad bites his lip, emotions flickering across his face in quick succession. He looks like he’s struggling to keep it together. Then, with a sigh, he lets go.
“Well, apparently, my father thinks I’m useless. And Dean… wanted to prove to me that I’m not completely useless.”
Shock punches through me. “You are not useless, Chad. That’s a terrible thing to say—and completely untrue.”
I step closer, gently wrapping my hand around his arm. His eyes flicker down to where I’m touching him, and I feelthe tension in his body, like he’s on the verge of snapping but holding on.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to believe.” He shakes his head, jaw tight. “He’s said it my whole life. Useless. Pathetic. A waste of space. I went to New York to escape him the second I could.”
He pauses. My chest aches, but I wait for him to continue. “Lakelyn, I always run from things. I always build walls. I don’t want to do that with you. Please don’t let me.”
Without thinking, I pull him into my arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He tenses for a second, then melts against me, burying his face in my neck. His breath is shaky, and when I hear the low, soft rumble of a purr coming from him, my heart breaks a little more.
“Chad, there’s nowhere you could run I wouldn’t follow,” I whisper, holding him closer, threading my fingers through his hair.
He shudders at my words, holding me tighter, like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. “Promise me.”
I tilt my head, brushing my lips against his temple, keeping him close. “It’s more than a promise. It’s a soul contract. A bond our souls made before we were born.”
“I think I’m in love with you, Lakelyn.” His words are muffled against my skin, but I feel them through my entire body.
His breath is warm against my neck, his words sinking into my skin like a brand. My entire body freezes for a split second, his confession reverberating through me, making my heart race faster than it already was.
“I think I’m in love with you, Lakelyn,” he repeats, the words muffled against my skin, but this time they hit harder, deeper. They wrap around my heart like a vice, tightening with every beat.
My fingers curl into his hair, holding him closer, and my breath catches in my throat as his hands slip around my waist, pulling me flush against him. He’s trembling slightly, and I can feel the rawness of his emotions. Every guarded wall he’s ever built is crumbling right here in my arms, and it’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.
“Chad…” My voice is soft, barely a whisper, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to ruin this fragile moment by saying the wrong thing. Just ‘I love you too,’ doesn’t seem like enough.
His lips brush against my neck, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. His movements are hesitant, like he’s testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to reject him. But I don’t. I can’t. I pull him closer instead, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.
“You don’t have to say it back, but I mean it,” he says, his voice a little shaky. “I can’t help it. Every time I’m around you… I just—” He pulls back slightly, just enough to look me in the eyes, his hands tightening on my waist. “You make me feel like I’m not broken. Like I matter.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and I can’t stop the way my hands slide down to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palms. He’s looking at me with so much pure intensity, his eyes dark and filled with something I can’t name but feel deep inside.
