Pale sunlight fanned over the loft, tinting everything lavender andgray.
“August?” I repeated, my throat feeling as raw as the rest of me. Had he left forTennessee?
I pushed my senses out, trying to pick up on another heartbeat, but only mineresounded.
Heleft.
He’d gone and left, and he hadn’t even woken me to say goodbye. The most overwhelming devastation crushed my lungs, made it impossible to breathe. Hands shaking, I took the cover and wrapped it around myself, then struggled to a standing position that intensified thethrobbing.
The front door snicked open, and my heart all but short-circuited.
I clutched the covertighter.
August walked in, a brown paper bag dangling from his fingers. When he caught sight of my expression, he kicked the door shut, tossed the paper bag on the kitchen island, and rushed over. “What isit?”
My bottom lip wobbled. “I thought you . . . I thought you’dleft.”
His forehead puckered, but then he smiled, cupped both my cheeks, and tipped my face up. “Just to getbreakfast.”
When had I become this needy girl ready to cry for having been left alone? I averted my gaze from his. “I feel so stupid rightnow.”
“Why?”
“For flippingout.”
“I like that you flipped out.” He pushed a lock of tangled hair off my face. “I was worried you might have regrets and run away from meagain.”
I looked up at him. “Run away? It was the best night of mylife.”
His hazel eyes blazed. “That’s a dangerous thing tosay.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you say that every morning you wake up”—his hands settled on the base of my spine and pressed me against him—“which means I’ll have to outdo myself each and every night.” He bumped his nose intomine.
My pulse fluttered against my neck and then lower, until it had all but soothed the shallow ache and replaced it with fiercewant.
“I’m on board with that,” Imurmured.
His eyes twinkled a tad wickedly. “On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in rightnow?”
“Pain?”
“Downthere.”
“Notmuch.”
“Not much isn’t anumber.”
“Two.”
His brows slanted. “Really?”
“Okay, maybe three. And a half.” My body was supposed to heal fast. Why was I even still inpain?
Yes, he wasbig,but—
“When you get to zero, you let me know.” And then he walked back to the kitchen, pulled a bread basket from a cupboard, and poured out the flaky pastries that smelled like warmed butter and spicy cinnamon. My stomach clenched and let out an embarrassingly loudrumble.
