He lifted my hand and pressed it to his lips. Could I do this?
“I’m seeing a psychologist at work.” This surprised me. I raised my brows and he continued. “Says I need to work on trust. Seeing the good in people. At first, I didn’t think the doc knew what she was talking about and then I’m reading your journal and realized the one thing I didn’t listen to when all this went down was my gut instinct about you. I wanted to trust you but didn’t know how.”
He had all my attention now. He was speaking my language.
I couldn’t believe he was sitting here, telling me this. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
He turned and pulled me into his lap. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” His voice broke. I buried my face in his neck. “So fucking sorry.” And then his mouth was on mine, searching, claiming, and his arms were around me. I couldn’t push him away if my life depended on it.
We’d been through so much, and these feelings had only grown stronger.
When we both came up for air, he pressed his forehead against mine. “I promise.” His voice carried conviction, intensity. “No jumping to conclusions. We talk things out.”
I nodded. “We’ll work on it.” I sniffed. “And I’ll keep away from reporters.”
But his hands were cradling my face. “You never lied to me once. This is on me. I’m gonna make this up to you, I promise.”
Tobey began to get a little impatient. He jumped up and took turns licking us both. And then I realized something. “Did you have something to do with the email I got today?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I needed a wingman. If you didn’t show, I was gonna bring him by your place. Thought we might share custody, you know. Until we can work out an arrangement?”
Tobey had curled up in my lap and made himself comfortable. I couldn’t believe how great this day was turning out. Hunter reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. A small piece of paper.
“What is this?” Ah, it was a phone number.
“Memorize it.”
I read it through a few times, burning the numbers in my brain forever and then tucked it into my bra. “On my heart, Hunter.” Those eyes of his warmed with something. Love? Maybe.
His hand covered mine again, this time on my chest, over my heart. “On mine.” He corrected me. “On mine.”
—The End—
