“Always, little dove.”
He shifts down, kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, right beneath my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt.
“You said that organization is yours.”
“Mmm,” he hums softly, his hand coming around my waist.
“You don’t want it?”
Without missing a beat, he says, “I just want you.”
I shift to look up at him, slightly confused, though I don’t know why. I don’t know why I’m pushing this when it’s the exact thing that made me push him away last time.
His fingers run across my cheek, then he leans down to kiss me softly.
“I don’t want anything that will take my attention away from you. The organization is a lot of work. It takes time and dedication, and other things that you wouldn't approve of.”
“But if you want it, I don’t want to stop you.”
“I’ve never wanted it. I’ve spent my whole life trying to get away from it. I have that chance now. Trust me, little dove—” He kisses me again. “All I want is this right here.”
We settle together again, and he drifts into sleep. Our fingers are locked together, and I glance down at his hand that’s covered in ink.
I noticed the newest addition the morning after the warehouse, though if I’m being honest, I first noticed it when he was dancing with me at the party. At the time, I thought my mind mixed with the alcohol was playing tricks on me, but nope… it was Jaxon. That tattoo is his.
On his left hand, ring finger, the initialsSBW.
I haven’t asked him about it. I didn’t ask when he got it or why. It doesn’t matter. It’s there and that’s all that matters. What I do need to bring up, is the fact that I want a matching one.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sailor
Three years later…
“Congratulations, Sailor.”
I shake the hand of Dean Voss, who has been exceptionally nice to me ever since he found out Jaxon and I are dating. I don’t know if he’s doing it because he’s afraid, or if he’s just trying to make up for being a crappy father to Jaxon all his life.
We don’t do dinner on Sundays, or any meals together at all, but he will call Jaxon now and then to check in. Jaxon only answers half the time. Maybe less.
The last three years have been amazing. The best of my life. It’s hard to believe how much my life has changed, all because I lost my journal—the one thing I thought was keeping me going.
“Thank you, Dean Voss,” I say before crossing the stage, smiling as the small crowd of people clap.
School is finished. I have a degree in graphic design, which I’m not sure I will ever use, but I did it. My parents and grandparents would be so proud of this accomplishment, not only for doing itbut for doing everything else just to get here. It was a lot. They’d be proud, and I hate that they aren’t here to see it.
Sometimes I wanted to quit. But with Jaxon and Amelia at my side, how could I?
I carefully walk down the stairs, where Jaxon is waiting for me with a grin.
He’s long since been finished with school, but of course, kept supporting me. The nights I didn’t feel like going any longer, he always found creative ways to coax me into doing my work. Most of them sexual, but hey, it worked.
He opens his arms and I go right to him, breathing a sigh of relief. He’s still my safe place, still the person who makes me feel the most calm. Which is funny considering he’s also the person who can get my heart racing the most.
“Congratulations, baby,” he whispers, kissing my head.
“Ah, you did it!”
