I snorted. "A shrimp."
"Abadshrimp." He glanced at me, mouth twitching. "Very suspicious shrimp."
I turned to look at him. He was wearing the soft gray Henley I’d bought him for his birthday, the one that made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his eyes warmer than usual. The bruising from the hit had faded completely now, his face back to the face I’d fallen asleep looking at for months.
“I’m thinking about how weird this is,” I said.
“Weird how?”
“A year ago, I was dreading Christmas. Counting down the days until I could get it over with, pretend everything was fine, and go back to school where I could fall apart in private.” I traced the back of his hand where it rested on my leg. “Now I’m driving toward a house full of people, and I actually want to be there.”
Seth’s thumb stilled. “That’s not weird. That’s good.”
“It feels weird.”
“Growth usually does.”
I huffed out a laugh. “You’re annoyingly good at that.”
“At what?”
“Saying the exact right thing.” I shook my head. “It’s unsettling. When did you get so good at it?”
“Around the time I fell for a guy who makes me want to be better.” He glanced at me, his expression soft. “You make mewant to earn it, Tanner. The way you look at me? I want to deserve that.”
My chest ached in the way it always did when he said things like that—raw and tender and so full of feeling I didn’t know where to put it. I lifted his hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
“You do,” I said.
We drove for another hour before my phone buzzed with a message from Hunter.
ETA? Nixon’s making his famous crab dip and he keeps threatening to start without you.
Two hours. Tell him to show some restraint.
I’m telling him nothing. He’s terrifying when he’s cooking.
I snorted and showed Seth the exchange. He laughed, the sound bright in the enclosed space of the truck.
"Hunter's been warming up to the idea of us," Seth said. "Only threatened me twice last time we talked."
"He's protective."
"He should be." Seth's hand found mine on his thigh, fingers lacing together. "You deserve friends who want to make sure no one hurts you."
“You planning on hurting me?”
Seth’s jaw tightened, and for a second, I saw the shadow of everything we’d been through—the hit, the hospital, the ten daysof careful silence and careful touch. “Never on purpose,” he said quietly. “And never again if I can help it.”
I didn’t say anything. Just leaned across the console and pressed my lips to his shoulder, breathing in the clean cotton smell of his shirt and the warmth underneath.
“You made it!”Hunter had the door open before we’d finished climbing the stairs, pulling me into a hug so tight my feet left the ground. “Merry Christmas, asshole.”
“Put me down.”
“No. I haven’t seen you since October. I’m hugging you as long as I want.”
John appeared behind him, grinning. “Let the man breathe, babe. Hey, Tanner. Seth.”
