The pounding rain outside doesn’t give me much confidence, but I know I’m in no state to be behind the wheel either. If I drive, I could take us off the road. If he drives, he could let fear get the best of him—which I’d totally understand.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. He scoots back to his side of the bench seat, hand reaching for the door handle.
“Just climb over.” I catch his forearm, gently shifting it aside before tugging him to me. “Don’t get re-drenched.”
His soft nod accompanies him scooting across the seat, every movement deliberate yet clumsy in the narrow space. When he’s finally close, he hesitates, shifting awkwardly.
The corner of my mouth betrays me, tugging upward. Smiling feels wrong here, but god—it’s impossible not to when watching him wrestle with how to make this simple climb over me.
He decides on facing me, bracing his hands against the back of the seat. As I shift to make room, he slips between my knees. He suddenly pauses mere inches away, his breath ghosting mine.
I’ve never felt an urge this raw. It hurts not to reach for him, not to close the distance and finally claim the kiss I’ve been aching for.
My nails dig into the leather bench, desperate to ground myself. One more second, and I know my restraint will snap.
But then he scrambles the rest of the way across, breaking the moment like glass shattering.
“Sorry,” he mutters, stumbling onto my left leg before rushingoff me.
I don’t say anything as his hands reach up to the wheel, gripping it like it might vanish if he lets go. “I haven’t been in the driver’s seat in what feels like forever.”
I slide to the passenger side, buckle up, and lean against the door, watching him. He looks good there.
Then again, he looks good any day, any time.
In the mornings, when sleep still lingers in his eyes.
After three days without showering in the hospital, too afraid to leave my side.
When he’s smiling.
When he isn’t.
He’s perfect for me. Always has been.
I don’t even know why I’m still fighting this—fightingus. My heart stopped using the excuse of him being my stepbrother a long time ago. It’s just my stubborn brain, still slow to catch up.
The engine hums to life, pulling me out of my stupor and back to reality.
The way he drives—cautious, almost too much so—has me settling further into my seat, oddly relaxed. When I catch him checking the mirrors three times over before even turning onto the main road, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. He drives like a grandma, and it warms my soul in ways I can’t explain.
Burying Corey so close to our parents wasn’t anything I could ever be prepared for. But, somehow having Ayden stepping up to such a simple task, eases something in me I didn’t realize was coiled tight.
The grief, the guilt, the ache, those things will keep coming in waves. But maybe I can let him pull me to shore when they hit, and I don’t have to drown myself in the perpetual pain it brings me.
At least, not alone.
The fifteen-minute drive stretches to thirty, but I don’t mind. By the time we roll into Sapphire Valley, it feels like I can finally breathe again. Three weeks in a hospital bed made me forget how perfect this place is—no matter what circumstances dragged me back here permanently.
He throws the truck into park right beside the cabin and letsout a long breath of relief.
“I’ve done my chauffeur duties for the year.”
I release a winded laugh. “I’ve got us from here on. Thanks for taking the wheel.”
“No problem…” He licks his lips and gives me a smile, pulling my focus straight to them. “This rain is relentless, Jesus.”
My eyes flick up to his as he slowly undoes his seatbelt. “Yeah… relentless.”
