I pressed my hands against his chest, forcing him to let me go so I could look up at him. “I’m sorry too.”
His jaw clenched, his gray eyes dark with emotion. “No, you were—” He exhaled, his fingers flexing against my waist like he needed to hold onto something. “You were trying to protect me, and I chose to assume the worst. I should’ve known. I should’ve tried harder.”
His voice shook, and my chest ached at the rawness in it.
“Brooks, I wanted you to believe me.” A small, tired smile played on my lips. “Instead of apologizing, let’s just agree I’m a great actress.”
He let out a strained laugh, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Do you have to stay here at work? Or can we go home?” His voice dropped lower, like he wasn’t sure if I’d say yes. “I want to respect your rules, but I want nothing more than to sleep next to you.”
Home.
With him.
The words settled somewhere deep inside me.
“I’m sure I can take off for the night. The place will survive without me for one night.” I smirked. “I wouldn’t say no to another visit to that bathtub.”
His grip on my waist tightened. “Literally, anything you want.”
Brooks didn’t stop touching me, even as we said goodbye to the officers, Brigham, and the staff at the diner. Logan came up to us, stretching like he was ready to collapse.
“I can catch an Uber. You two go,” he said, waving us off with a knowing grin. “I’m glad you’re safe, Michelle. This ass was a mess the past week, so take care of him, okay?”
I grinned, but his words warmed something inside me. “We’ll see,” I teased, nudging Brooks. “Thanks for tagging along. Sorry you got dragged into my family drama.”
Logan shrugged, completely unbothered. “All families have drama. Some are just louder than others.” He yawned and waved as he walked back into the diner. “Have a good night.”
That left just me and Brooks.
Alone.
We had so much to talk about.
I knew that. He knew that. But right now, all I wanted was to be close to him.
I ran my hands over his chest, his strong neck, the soft strands of his hair, watching as his eyes darkened with something familiar, something that made my entire body hum.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
His hand found mine, threading our fingers together as we walked to his car. He opened my door, his touch lingering, and I let him. I let myself feel all of it.
When he slid into the driver’s seat, he took my hand, setting it on his lap, holding it like he was afraid to let go. The air between us was heavy, filled with everything we still needed to say. But for the first time, I didn’t feel anxious.
I felt calm. Happy. Excited for the future.
He must have felt it too because his grip on my hand tightened slightly. “You just let out a cute sigh. What’s on your mind?”
I smiled, watching the city lights blur past the window. “Before all this, I would’ve been sitting here, overthinking, trying to figure out the right thing to say. But now… I’m not worried. It’s liberating.”
His thumb brushed slow circles against my palm. “How’s that?”
I let out another breath, this one filled with something lighter.
“Because I’m more secure with how I feel about you,” I admitted. “And I don’t have the urge to run away.”
He hummed in response but didn’t push, didn’t ask for more.
And that—more than anything—made me happy.
